


Mum's the Word

by NZLisaM



Series: My Broadchurch Universe [2]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Crime, Detectives, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Friendship, Marriage, Mystery, Romance, Sequel, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NZLisaM/pseuds/NZLisaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellie’s first day back from maternity leave, she and Alec are called to a crime scene – a body has been found on the road leading to Broadchurch. Set one year after the end of 'You Never Know Who’s the One'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  **Disclaimer:**

You know the drill – the brilliant characters of Broadchurch belong to Chris Chibnall, and Kudos/ITV. I am not making any profit from this story. 

**Dedication:**

This story is dedicated to Sand5Marlowe for all her support, and advice. Thanks for reading my plot outline and encouraging me to write it, and for your brilliant suggestion regarding how to deal with a certain character in this chapter. :-) 

**Author Notes:**

I’m not putting any Trigger Warnings at the beginning of chapters as I feel it spoils both the mystery and suspense elements, so please bear in mind this story features crime, therefore may contain disturbing events and violence, but nothing too graphic I promise, as it’s only rated Teen.

 As stated in the summary this is a sequel to You Never Know Who’s the One. Alec and Ellie are married in this story, so if you don’t like them together then you may not like this fic, but I hope you do. :-)

 

* * *

 

 

ELLIE

 

As her train rolls smoothly into the station Ellie can just make out the roof of the awful flat she once shared with Fred during the worst months of her life. Thank god things have improved drastically since then, she thinks.

 

It’s Sunday night, and she’s returning from London, having spent the past few days attending a course exploring the latest techniques in evidence gathering and analysis. Ellie’s feeling pretty confident now especially when it comes to electronic evidence. She’s satisfied she will know more than Alec anyway, who’s not exactly tech savvy.

 

Just before their baby was born, Alec had been given the clean bill of health to return to active duty, which had coincided nicely with the Broadchurch DI at the time transferring to another village, freeing up the position for him. She wonders if it will be weird working together now that they are married. Maybe not for Alec, since he worked with Tess for years. Although, probably not a good idea to compare their marriage with his first given how it ended.

 

Stepping down onto the platform she bounces her grey, wheel suitcase down behind her. Scanning the station for her husband, she quickly spots his tall angular frame slouching near the ticket barrier.

 

Bright smile on her face, she quickens her pace to meet him. “Hiya,” she says. “Did you miss me?”

 

The way he screws up his face, makes her wonder whether the concept of a married couple missing one another is foreign to him. “You’ve only been gone four days,” he says.

 

Ellie can feel her smile slipping, but the longing she saw in his eyes when he first noticed her off the train tells her he’s pleased to see her. As does his quick intake of breath when their fingers accidentally brush as he reaches down to relieve her of her suitcase.

 

“Thanks a lot,” she huffs. “Shall I turn around and catch the train back to London, then?”

 

“No,” he says, beckoning her towards him. “Come here instead.” She does, stretching up to wind her arms around his neck. Dipping his head, he gives her a quick but hard kiss.

 

“I much prefer that welcome,” she says, breathlessly.

 

“How was training?”

 

“Good. Learnt heaps.”

 

“Gonna show me up tomorrow? Dazzle everyone at the station with your newfound expertise your first day back?”

 

She runs her hands down the front of his Mac. “You’d better believe it, DI Hardy.” 

 

As they head towards the exit, she asks: “You been coping all right with the kids on your own?”

 

“Aye. Fred and Maxine are asleep. Tom’s watching them.”

 

She deflates a little, is aware it’s late, but was hoping they’d still be up. “Can’t wait to see them.”

 

“Our daughter splashed my favourite suit. Fred was in hysterics.” He sighs, “Hope it dries in time. Planned on wearing it to work tomorrow.”

 

“Of course.” She rolls her eyes skywards. “Why wouldn’t you be wearing it to give a five month old a bath?”

 

Reaching the car, he unlocks it, loading her luggage into the boot.

 

“Keys,” she demands, blocking his path to the driver’s door, her expression determined. “Your driving is shit, and I’m already feeling queasy from the train.” She’s never been much of a traveller, and being stuck on the train for hours has nearly undone her. She’s hoping occupying her mind by driving will help keep the nausea at bay.

 

Alec tosses them to her. “Missed you, darling,” he drawls, rolling his tongue over the ‘r’ in ‘darling’, in that sexy way he does. She’s definitely missed that.

 

Once they’re underway she asks: “How did it go yesterday? Daisy all moved in okay?” Daisy’s been out of school for four months having completed her A-levels back in June. Her results were excellent but much too Alec and Tess’ chagrin she’s decided to take a year off before applying to universities. Since leaving school she’s been working full time at Top Shop, living at home with her mum, but recently she (along with Chloe, and their friend Kirsty Nicholls) has been given the opportunity to house-sit for a local Broadchurch family, the Ackermans, while they’re holidaying in Australia.

 

“Yeah,” he says, in a deep grumbling voice.

 

“Still struggling with the idea I see. For god’s sake it’s only for a few weeks. She’s almost eighteen. Of course she’s going to want to strike out on her own.”

 

“Still don’t like it.” He squints at her closely. “What about you at eighteen? Living it up in the house you shared with your parents, were you?”

 

She pokes out her tongue at him. “Never miss an opportunity to insult my sheltered village upbringing, do you? Like you’ve led such a sophisticated life, Alec Hardy. And stop changing the subject! What’s the house like?”

 

“Seems nice. Solid locks. No alarm though.”

 

“Not many houses here have them, apart from our house cos a certain someone insisted we have one installed before we moved in.”

 

“Bloody small town people and their lax attitudes towards home security and personal safety,” Alec says, hitting the dashboard with his hand for emphasis. “Burglaries happen everywhere, even here. How many B&E’s have you been called to in all your years as a police officer? Thirty? Forty?”

 

“All right, don’t go on.” Throwing him a wounded look, she adds: “And what do you mean by ‘all my years’?”

 

Sighing, he focuses his gaze out the window.

 

“Do they have everything ready for tomorrow?” she probes. Not only are the girls going to be house-sitting they’re also babysitting Fred and Maxine for them, and Lizzie for Beth and Mark, starting tomorrow when Ellie returns to work.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Wow, you’re hardly reassuring me, here. A bit more information would be helpful.”

 

“What do you want me to say? Daisy assures me everything’s organised.”

 

“And you call yourself a detective. I’ll ring Beth.”

 

Less than half an hour later they’re pulling into the garage of the modern, four-bedroom, brick house they purchased together just over a year ago.

 

Entering via the internal garage access Ellie heads upstairs to check on the kids. Poking her head in Tom’s room first, she gives him a cheery, “I’m back”. The grunt she receives in reply makes her wonder if he’s been taking lessons from Alec, and also whether he’s even noticed she’s been gone for several days. Leaving him to it she heads down the hall to the bedroom Fred and Maxine share.

 

Prior to moving in she and Alec had disagreed over how to divide the three bedrooms among four kids. Alec had felt that Tom, Fred, and their impending baby, should have their own rooms since they live with them full time and that Daisy should share with the baby. Ellie had been adamant that a teenage girl needed her own space more than the little ones, and that she didn’t want Daisy shoved into a room with one of the others like a spare wheel when she visited. As their argument had escalated, the sleeping arrangements for the Master bedroom had also come into question, when a frustrated Ellie had screamed at him that if he didn’t see reason then maybe he would prefer to sleep in the garden shed. Alec must have felt sufficiently threatened by that because he’d backed down, allowing Ellie to have her way. And it was working out well. Fred seemed happy enough sharing a room with his little sister. Ellie figures they’ll revise the arrangement when the kids are older. Daisy and Tom will probably be gone by then anyway, she thinks wistfully.

 

Even though winter is upon them, due to central heating, the kid’s room, along with the rest of the house is toasty warm. The UFO night light bounces multiple colours across the walls, disorientating her, as Ellie gingerly picks her way to her son’s bed. Fred is sprawled on his front snoring lightly, arms thrown wide. He’s always been a restless sleeper and as per most nights his covers are bunched haphazardly at the foot of the bed. He’s almost as lively in sleep as he is awake, she thinks wryly. Bending to retrieve the fallen duvet, she tucks it gently around him. Leaning over she buries her face in his soft hair, inhaling the sweet chamomile smell of his shampoo. Unlike her brother, Maxine is wrapped up tight lying contentedly on her back, when she approaches the cot. Placing a hand on her small body Ellie feels for the rise and fall of her breathing through the layer of blankets. She’s never felt so blessed.

 

After unpacking, and speaking to Beth, who like Alec assures her the girls are on top of everything, she heads for the utility room. She still marvels over how great it is to have a separate room for the washing machine and dryer instead of them being crammed into the kitchen space. After putting a wash on, she removes Alec’s suit from the dryer and sets about ironing it so her grumpy husband can wear his favourite suit to work tomorrow. The lovely, dimpled smile she receives later on when she hangs his newly-pressed suit on the wardrobe door still has the ability to cause her heart to flip, even after eighteen months of sleeping together, and a year of marriage.

 

* * *

 

ALEC

 

The following morning is a hectic one for the combined Hardy/Miller family as they struggle to adapt to their new routine. Alec had thought the past week had been difficult, being the sole parent and getting everyone organised, but a harassed Ellie pacing around the breakfast table firing last minute instructions, like some kind of drill sergeant, is even more stressful.

 

“I have to leave shortly to meet Jenkinson, don’t forget?” she says, hovering anxiously near his elbow. “So you’re dropping Max at Daisy’s, and Fred at Nursery.”

 

“You told me that last night,” he grumbles.

 

“I know, just reminding you.” She turns her attention to her eldest son. “You’re riding your bike to school, yeah?”

 

“Yes,” confirms Tom, a spoonful of Coco Pops and milk poised halfway to his mouth. “Same as every school day for the past year.”

 

“Don’t get smart with me. And after school? Are you coming here, or going to Daisy’s?” she asks, waiting impatiently for him to swallow his cereal.

 

“Um, here first. But I might head over to Daisy’s later.”

 

“Lock the doors when you get home, do not leave the house except to go to Daisy’s, and set the alarm when you go.” She waves a finger dangerously close to his face, her expression stern, “Do not go anywhere else. I will know if you do. No friends over without ringing and asking me first. Make sure you keep the house tidy, and load the dishwasher. I do not want to come home at the end of a long day to find dishes all over the counter. If you do end up going to Daisy’s, the girls are in charge, so do what they say, got it?”

 

“Yes, Mum. What time will you be home?”

 

“Let me check with my boss.” She shoots Alec a sweet smile. “What time will I be home, sir?”

 

“About half six. And for god’s sake, you know when your own shift finishes.”

 

“I know, but I can’t resist winding you up.” He watches as she plants several kisses on their daughters face. The baby responds by shaking a star-shaped rattle near Ellie’s ear.

 

“Bye, bye, darling,” she says, moving onto Fred. Smoothing back his hair, she proceeds to shower his face with kisses.

 

Squirming to try and free himself, Fred swipes at his face in protest. “Yuck.”

 

“Yuck to you too,” Ellie says, deliberately giving him another kiss. “Have fun at Nursery. Daisy will pick you up at lunchtime, okay?”

 

Fred throws his arms above his head, bouncing in his chair. “Yay, Daisy.”

 

Ruffling Tom’s hair on the way past, Ellie again reminds him to tow the line. With a smirk, Tom decides to dish out some advice of his own. “No kissing on the job, you two, all right? Be professional.”

 

“We’ll try to refrain from that,” Ellie says wryly.

 

Opposite Alec, Fred starts to giggle, causing Alec to wonder whether he’s laughing over the word _kissing_. “All right, wee Fred,” he asks his stepson.

 

Fred bobs his curly head repeatedly. “It was so funny when Max splashed water on you, Dad.”

 

A stunned silence descends on the room, as the two adults and Tom process this new development – up until now Fred’s been referring to Alec as ‘Uncle Alec’. For several moments the only sound in the room is the twinkling bell from Maxine’s rattle.

 

Catching Ellie’s eye Alec searches her face for any signs of disapproval, but finds none. In typical Ellie fashion her eyes are already welling with tears, but her smile is warm as she nods. Next to him, Tom’s mouth gapes, but when Alec looks at him he merely shrugs, which Alec hopes is Tom’s way of telling him that it’s okay with him. He briefly worries that Daisy will mind, but just as quickly dismisses the notion; knows she thinks of Fred and Tom as her brothers. Clearing his throat, Alec turns his attention to Fred, giving the small boy a wide smile, “I suppose that was pretty funny.” 

 

Fred, oblivious to the interest his comment has generated, watches as his mother plucks a tissue from the box in the centre of the table and swipes at her eyes. “You cry a lot, Mummy?” he tells her.

 

Unable to look at one another, Alec and Tom struggle to contain their laughter. Alec raises an eyebrow, “Out of the mouths of babes.”

 

“Oh, shut up, you,” Ellie says, striding around the table to kiss him goodbye, her eyes still shiny. “See you at work.”

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as she opens the door Daisy immediately notices how anxious her father is.

 

“All right?” she asks.

 

He nods slowly, adjusting Maxine in his arms. “All set for today?” he asks.

 

“You’re such a worrywart, Dad,” she says, struggling to hide her exasperation. “Ellie went over everything last week, remember?” Before Ellie had gone to London, the three of them had spent a day learning Maxine and Fred’s routines. Kirsty had even taken notes which had amused Daisy and Chloe as much as it had impressed Ellie.

 

Turning her attention to her little sister she strokes the baby’s head. “Hello, sweet baby.” Maxine gives her a gummy grin.

 

Daisy hears footsteps behind her and Kirsty steps up next to her. “Hello, Mr Hardy,” she says. She’s smiling but her blue eyes dart around nervously. She’s already confided in Daisy that she finds her dad ‘a little scary’. Daisy’s still laughing her arse off over that one.

 

“How are you Kirsty?” Dad asks.

 

“Good thanks.” She holds out her arms for Maxine. “Chloe and Lizzie are in the sitting room. I’ll get Max settled, if you like?”

 

Daisy watches as her dad kisses his youngest daughter on the cheek before handing her over.

 

Cradling the baby, Kirsty lets out an “ow”, as Maxine grabs a handful of her long pale blonde hair. “You rascal,” she coos as she walks away.

 

Trailing her father out to the car, Daisy shakes her head when she sees the overflowing contents of the boot. “Crikey, think you brought enough stuff?”

 

“Erm... wasn’t sure what you needed, and Ellie insisted.”

 

“We’ll need the baby bag, nappies, buggy, travel cot, and highchair, as well as both the kids’ car seats. The rest you can take away.”

 

All three girls hold licences but Daisy is the only one with a car, a white 2007 Suzuki Swift. Her mum and dad put some money towards it but she saved most of it itself, working at Top Shop after school and on weekends, moving to full time when she left school back in July. Chloe and Kirsty keep telling her that they can walk everywhere in Broadchurch anyway so they don’t need cars but Daisy knows they’re a little envious, particularly Chloe.

 

“Ellie wanted to be here this morning to inspect the house, but she has a meeting with the Super. Apparently my word that everything is fine isn’t good enough.”

 

Chuckling, Daisy reaches into the boot grabbing the baby bag and nappies. “We’ve already been through this once this morning when Beth dropped Lizzie off.”

 

“Before we go in, erm, there’s something I need to tell you. Erm... ” He adjusts the cuff of his coat.

 

Daisy can’t help but grin. She doubts it’s serious and it amuses her when her father gets all nervous and starts stammering over his words. “Just spit it out, will you.”

 

“All right. Erm, this morning at breakfast wee Fred called me ‘Dad’.”

 

“Well that’s hardly surprising. You’re the only Dad he remembers. What’s the problem?”

 

“I was worried you might be upset?”

 

Swinging the baby bag, she knocks him on the arm. “Don’t be daft. I think it’s marvellous. About bloody time in fact.”

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

So far, her first day back has gone without a hitch.

 

She was slightly nervous walking onto the CID floor. Even though she worked as a DS before Maxine was born it’s been a while. She needn’t have worried, everyone is welcoming, pleased to have her back, and her meeting with Superintendent Elaine Jenkinson is as informal as it is friendly.

 

Alec arrives about half an hour after her, pausing to participate in her welcome back conversations, even going as far as to dish out money for the first round of coffees for the team. Deeming that enough socialising for one day he disappears into the sanctuary of his office for the remainder of the morning.

 

She spends the morning familiarising herself with the systems, as well as perusing the open and recently closed cases. Nothing much has changed in that respect – the names that jump out at her seem to be the same troublemakers she’s dealt with in the past, and the types and occurrences of crimes hasn’t changed.

 

Early afternoon she’s dispatched along with a PC to deal with a trio of intoxicated teenagers hanging around outside the Traders disturbing the peace. Not only are they guilty of skipping school but also of raiding one of the boy’s parent’s liquor cabinet. Two sets of angry parents arriving on the scene go a long way towards sobering up the teenagers, and they leave quietly after that. To her dismay Ellie recognises one of the boys from Tom’s class. She makes a mental note to have a sit down with her son to discuss the dangers and consequences of underage alcohol consumption.

 

Back at her desk she has a direct view into the DI office to where Alec is hunched over his own desk scowling at the computer screen. Seeing him like that, she’s suddenly transported back to more than two years ago, shocked by how eerily familiar everything is. It’s only when she glances at her desk, sees the photos she placed there earlier, one of the five of them – her, Alec, Daisy, Tom, and Fred – on their wedding day, and a separate picture of Maxine smiling at the camera, that she remembers how much things have changed. She wonders how Alec will feel when he sees the family photos on public display for all to see, knowing how much he strives to keep his work and home life separate. Last week he’d even had the gall to lecture her on how she should conduct herself on duty now that they were going to be working together, until she’d told him to piss off. It’s as if he imagined she was going to jump him in the middle of a briefing and start snogging him in front of their fellow officers. He should be so lucky! It’s not as if it’s a secret that they’re married, and if he has such a problem with it then maybe he should stop marrying his DS’s? Although, she thinks with some amusement, where in the hell else would he have met women if not at work?

 

Being a modern building, and due to police officers often working long hours the station is fully equipped with a ‘Parents Room’ with partitioned off areas for further privacy. It even has its own fridge which is a godsend for Ellie who is still breastfeeding. She takes a break about half two to express milk but finds it doesn’t go as smoothly as she’d hoped making her wonder whether she’s made the right decision to continue nursing while working a high stress job. With Fred she’d made the switch to formula several weeks before her maternity leave ended so she’s not sure why she’s decided to do things differently with Maxine but figures she’ll play it by ear and see how it goes.

 

Just before six o’clock Ellie is heading back to the station armed with the last coffees of the day for the officers sharing her shift, when she spots Lucy walking towards her. Her sister looks even more glamorous than usual, the burgundy skirt of her dress just visible beneath her cream winter coat, teamed with knee-length high-heeled brown leather boots, carrying a tartan bag.

 

“Ooh, look at you, all poshed up. Something I should know?” She can’t help feeling a touch of envy. With four kids, one of them a baby, it’s been eons since she and Alec have had a night out. Screwing up her face she tries recalling the last time? Have they ever been on a date? They didn’t even go on a honeymoon because Ellie was already four months pregnant and hadn’t felt the best. Alec had promised her they would go away at a later stage, and then being the great unromantic he was, never brought it up again.

 

“Remember Patricia Drake and Simon Albury? They used to live in Broadchurch? Tricia’s staying with me for a couple of weeks, and Simon’s driving down from Weymouth to have dinner with us.”

 

Ellie does. Along with their respective spouses, they were good friends of Lucy’s, and her ex-husband John. “I do. From back when you, John, and Olly lived on Everson Road.”

 

“That’s right. Simon’s divorced now, and Patricia’s husband died ten years ago.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Philip wasn’t it?”

 

“Good memory, Ell.”

 

“I’m not a copper for nothing,” she says, balancing the cardboard coffee cup tray she’s carrying into a more comfortable position.

 

“How’s your first day back been?”

 

“Pretty uneventful, but I don’t mind.”

 

“No shagging Hardy on his desk, then? Or pulling him into a cleaning closet for a quickie?”

 

“Are you kidding me,” Ellie says indignantly. Without thinking it through properly she adds: “His office has a glass front.”

 

“Ah-ha, you came up with that reply rather quickly. You’ve already considered the possibility, admit it?”

 

“Not true,” She can feel her face flaming, because she has thought about it, despite Alec’s dire warnings to ‘keep it professional’. Damn Lucy, sometimes she’s too perceptive for her own good. “You know how much of a stickler Alec is for rules and regulations, particularly when it comes to the job?”

 

“Well, that could be fun too.”

 

“Get out of here,” Ellie laughs. “Have fun at your reunion. Where are you meeting up?” she asks, her sisterly concern surging to the surface. Lucy’s been sober for eighteen months now, and Ellie doesn’t want to see her throw it all down the drain by being tempted into drinking. She remembers attending many a social function at Lucy and John’s where the alcohol flowed freely and the parties lasted long into the night.

 

“At the Thai House in the High Street, not the King’s Arms, so you can wipe that worried look off your face.”

 

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

“No thanks, cos that pretty much encompasses everything,” is her sister’s parting shot.

 

Even though Ellie laughs she can’t help feeling a little offended. She knows Lucy’s always found her stuffy and unexciting but it still hurts.  

 

Back at the station she’s just distributing the coffees when the Outside DS, DS Colin Brooks strides towards her, “You have a shout out, Ellie. You and the boss.”

 

She raps on the glass door of Alec’s office to get his attention. Moments later he emerges. “What is it?” he says gruffly.

 

“Report of a body,” Brooks informs him. “Suspicious.”

 

Ellie’s heart plummets to the soles of her feet. It’s déjà vu all over again. Wide-eyed, she looks at Alec in alarm. By the anguish in his eyes she knows he’s thinking the same thing.

 

 _Please, please, don’t be a child,_ Ellie prays. _Don’t do this to us. Not again!_

 

“Details?” Alec says. He sounds composed and professional but Ellie knows him better than anyone and can detect the underlying distress in his voice.

 

“Adult male, late forties, early fifties.”

 

Ellie slowly releases the breath she’s been holding. Still awful, but she’s been through a lot worse.

 

“Where?”

 

“Coastal Road. Near the roundabout on the edge of town.”

 

 _One road in. One road out,_ Ellie thinks.

 

“Identification?”

 

“That’s all the information we’ve received so far.”

 

“Right, thanks Brooks. Come on Ellie, don’t hang about. Time to do some real police work.”

 

* * *

 

Ellie drives, while Alec phones Daisy to let her know that they’re not going to be able to pick the kids up until later.

 

“Check Tom’s there, will you?”

 

Repeating her question, Alec pauses, and then says: “Okay, thanks darling. Order some takeaways with the money I gave you. Will keep you updated.” Sliding his Blackberry back into his jacket pocket he says: “Tom’s there. Apparently young Kirsty’s a whiz at Maths so she’s helping him with his homework.”

 

“Wow, I’m impressed. Even I struggle to get Tom to do his homework. Sounds like they have everything under control.”

 

He gives her a smug look, “Told you.”

 

“Yes, you did,” she says, slowing down as familiar blue flashing lights come into view. After being waved through the traffic-cordon by a police constable, she parks the car, and they make their way towards the scene. The temperature has dropped drastically in the last hour and Ellie hugs her orange coat tighter around herself.

 

“Sir, Ma’am.” A uniformed officer, PC Ward, wearing a yellow reflective jacket, holds up the crime tape for them.

 

“What do we have?” Alec asks, as he ducks under the tape.

 

The PC repeats the information from earlier regarding gender and approximate age.

 

“This his car?” Alec indicates to the silver Honda Civic parked on the far left hand verge.

 

“Yes, sir. He was driving in the direction of town when he pulled over for some reason. It’s possible he was forced to stop cos the boot of the car is damaged. Boot also contained luggage, so he was either returning home from a trip, or doesn’t live locally.”

 

“ID? Wallet? Driving licence?” Alec fires at him.

 

PC Ward shakes his head, “Nothing so far.”

 

“Mobile phone?”

 

“Haven’t located it yet.”

 

“Who found him?”

 

The officer indicates to where a distraught businessman in his late twenties is standing with another PC. “A Mike Turner. Was on his way home from work when he saw the car parked on the side of the road and stopped to offer assistance.”

 

“I know Mike,” Ellie says. “He’s on the same five-a-side team as Mark and Paul.”

 

“What time was that?” Alec asks the PC.

 

“About six he reckons. 999 call received at eighteen twelve backs up his story.”

 

The body of the unidentified male is laying on the ground, on his front, covered to the neck by a waterproof tarp. His face is turned away, his awful head injury visible from where Ellie is standing. The body is behind the car effectively hidden from passing traffic.

 

Crouching over the body, pathologist, Dr Anna Bell looks up as they approach.

 

“Horrible night for it,” she says. “Great to have you back, Ellie.”

 

“Cause of death,” Alec asks, the tone of his voice making it clear that this isn’t the time for chitchat.

 

“Nasty head wound, near the crown.”

 

Frowning, Alec turns back to the young officer. “You said the boot was damaged.”

 

“That’s correct, sir.”

 

“Show me.”

 

PC Ward leads the way, Alec following, Ellie trailing.

 

Reaching the car, PC Ward raises and lowers the boot. Instead of catching it just bounces off the rubber rim. “See. Won’t close.”

 

Stepping up beside him, Alec shoos him out of the way, grabbing the boot lid. “What if our victim was leaning over retrieving something from the boot when the killer stepped up behind him...” he slams the lid down to demonstrate, “boot goes down hard, striking him on the back of the head.” Even though it merely bounces when it hits its target Ellie still finds herself flinching. Catching PC Ward’s eye she notices he looks just as sick.

 

Face impassive, Alec addresses Dr Bell over his shoulder. “Could that have caused that type of injury?”

 

The pathologist, who’s looking just as unaffected as Alec nods slowly. “Possible. Depending on the force of the blow. I’ll know more when I get him on the table.”

 

“There was a torch lying on the ground near the car,” PC Ward says. “Could’ve been what he was reaching for. Unfortunately, they’re a dime a dozen. Branded and sold by every Morrison’s supermarket throughout the country.”

 

“Okay, send it to the lab. See if they can lift any prints.”

 

Ellie indicates to the ground at the back of the car. “He would have fallen here though wouldn’t he?” She looks over at the victim, lying several feet away. “But he’s over there.”   

 

“Killer dragged him around the car out of sight of the road.”

 

Walking side by side, she and Alec approach the body. Following him as he moves around the body she finally sees the victims face for the first time. She inhales a sharp breath, “I think I know him.”

 

He takes a step closer to her, his face etched in concern, “Who?”

 

“I haven’t seen him in years, but I think it’s Lucy’s friend, Simon Albury. She was supposed to be meeting him for dinner, tonight.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

ALEC

 

He’s not sure he heard that right. “Lucy was dating our murder victim?”

 

He can tell by the way Ellie frowns, biting down hard on her lip that she’s thrown by the question. “No, it wasn’t a date. Simon used to live in Broadchurch until he moved away about eighteen years ago. Lucy and another friend Patricia Drake were catching up with him tonight – a reunion of sorts.”

 

“Is he married?”

 

“He was back then. But when I saw Lucy today she said he’s divorced now.”

 

“Children?”

 

“Dunno about now. He didn’t eighteen years ago.”

 

“DI Hardy,” PC Ward calls. He’s down the bank, on the grassy verge, torch aimed at the ground. “Found his licence. Killer must’ve thrown it down here.” Using gloves, he seals it in an evidence bag, and jogging over, hands it to Alec.

 

Placing his glasses on his nose, Alec studies it. “Yep, Simon Elliott Albury, age 49, lives in Weymouth.”

 

Ellie lets out a breath. “Oh god, it is him. Lucy also mentioned he lived in Weymouth when I ran into her earlier.”

 

“Were Lucy and Simon Albury in regular contact?”

 

She shakes her head, “Not sure. Not that she ever mentioned to me.”

 

“And you knew him as well?”

 

“Not really. Only through Luce,” she says. As he watches she shoves her bare hands into the pockets of her coat, bouncing on the balls of her feet a couple of times. Alec is oblivious to the cold weather, hasn’t even bothered to zip his coat up. He despises the heat though and is very vocal over how high Ellie has the bloody radiators set at home.

 

“CCTV?” Alec asks PC Ward.

 

“No cameras this section of the road.”

 

He turns back to Ellie. “Wonder if his killer knew that.”

 

Looking in the direction of the deceased’s Honda Civic, Ellie says: “The fact that he stopped suggests he may have known the person, and felt comfortable enough to get out of the car. Or, maybe the killer pretended to break down, that’s why Simon needed the torch from the boot.”

 

“Or Albury was the one who broke down. Have you tried starting the car?” he asks the uniformed officer.

 

“Yes sir. Engine turns over fine. The driver’s side window was halfway down though.”

 

“Let’s assume he wasn’t travelling with the window down in the middle of winter. Powered it down to speak to whoever he stopped for?”

 

“Probably,” Ellie agrees. “They took a huge risk killing him here, don’t you think? Lots of traffic this time of night. People returning home who work outside of town. Killer would’ve had to have been quick.”

 

“Witnesses are going to be crucial on this one.”

 

Sighing, he glances towards town, deep in thought. “Whatever happened, someone definitely didn’t want Simon Albury to reach Broadchurch.”

 

* * *

 

LUCY

 

“Simon still hasn’t mastered punctuality in the last seventeen years, I see,” Lucy notes.

 

Her friend, Patricia Drake, frowns at the time on her phone. “Screw him. We’ve waited long enough. Let’s order.”

 

Reaching for her menu, Lucy takes a sip of water, and grimaces. She’s really living it up these days. Her life is almost as vanilla as Ellie’s. Still, as Ellie likes to remind her on numerous occasions, she had to grow up sometime. Although she has to admit Ellie’s life is not as conventional or ordinary as it once was. At least her sister’s relationship with Hardy has fire, unlike her marriage to Joe which was so perfect it was a dreadful bore. Well until it all fell apart and turned out to be as far from boring as you could possibly get.

 

She remembers when she first saw Hardy she had liked the look of him and for one brief moment considered going after him herself until she had seen the way he looked at her little sister. She wonders if Ellie knows that he was probably in love with her back when she was married to Joe. Not that it matters, Ellie would never have gone there and she doubt’s Hardy would have either. Lucy cannot imagine two people less likely to cheat on their spouses.

 

She’s always been curious over when they did become romantically involved though. She’s asked Ellie repeatedly but her sister just gives a small smile and says it’s private. She doubts it was during Joe’s trial if Ellie’s look of genuine shock horror was anything to go by when QC Sharon Bishop accused them of having an affair, and Lucy had deliberately checked Hardy’s reaction and he’d looked just as stricken. Plus Ellie had denied shagging him but Lucy hadn’t been convinced for one second when she’d said she found Hardy unattractive. Yeah right!

 

Then there’s the fact that Hardy almost left town. She remembers how upset Ellie was even though she tried to hide it. Based on that she’s pretty sure they must have started sleeping together some time during the eight weeks Lucy was in rehab. It was all on when she returned home and Ellie and the boys were spending most of their time at the cottage Hardy was renting back then.

 

Speak of the devils and they will appear. Ellie and Hardy have just walked through the restaurant door. That’s funny; Ellie didn’t say she and Hardy were going out to dinner when she mentioned she’d be eating here? Maybe they’re getting takeaways? She studies them closer, frowning. Okay she gets that they’re comfortable with one another but couldn’t they have at least made more of an effort to dress up? Ellie’s windblown hair and shiny red nose, wearing the same sensible clothes Lucy saw her in an hour ago, awful orange coat draped over one arm, is not a good look. And Hardy’s suit is so wrinkled it looks as if he slept in it. Hey, maybe her sister pulled him into the cleaning closet for a quick shag after all? Or not, she thinks, as her brother-in-law, who’s speaking in a low voice to the waitress, glances her way, his expression serious. She frowns; surely they aren’t planning on joining her and Patricia? Simon’s bound to be along any minute?

 

“Don’t look now, Tricia,” Lucy whispers urgently to her friend. “But my sister and her husband are heading this way. You remember Ellie, right?”

 

“Mind if we sit down?” Hardy says in his usual brusque manner, when the two of them reach the table.

 

“If you must,” she sighs. Making the introductions, she flushes with embarrassment when Hardy barely acknowledges Patricia, merely giving her a brief nod, his expression almost a grimace.

 

Would it kill him to at least attempt to be polite, she thinks. Is it too much to expect him to smile when meeting a good friend of hers for the first time? He’s really putting a damper on her evening. In fact they both are, because even the smile queen herself, Ellie, only offers up an uncertain smile when Patricia asks how she’s been. What the hell has she done to warrant these two downers invading what was up until now a pleasant dinner?

 

“Do you want something to drink?” she asks, hoping alcohol might loosen them up.

 

Not even bothering to reply, Hardy places his hands on the table. “We’re here in an official capacity.”

 

The menu falls from her grasp, striking the table, before dropping to the floor. She shakes her head repeatedly. “Not Olly.”

 

Leaning forward, Ellie stretches her arm across the table to touch Lucy’s hand. “Olly’s fine. Promise.” Sick with relief, and feeling slightly lightheaded, Lucy reaches for her water, taking a large gulp. Out of the corner of her eye she’s aware of Patricia’s face awash with sympathy.

 

“I’m afraid we’re here about your friend Simon Albury.” Ellie pauses, eyes flitting briefly to Patricia, and then back to Lucy. “He was found dead on the Coastal Road about an hour ago.”

 

Patricia gasps, a hand flying to her chest. “Oh my god. Car accident?”

 

“All we can tell you at this stage is that he sustained a head injury, and that it looks suspicious,” Hardy informs them.

 

Lucy’s stomach roils. “Who would want to hurt Simon? He doesn’t even live here?” Ellie give her hand a comforting squeeze.

 

“Ellie said Simon was meeting you both here tonight? How well did you know him?”

 

“We used to know him really well. We, John and I, met Tricia and Philip first, when they moved in across the street from us? 1991, wasn’t it Tricia?”

 

“That’s right,” Patricia confirms. “Olly, and my son Liam, had just turned one. I was pregnant with my second child, Jessica.”

 

“When did you meet Simon?” Alec asks.

 

“That would’ve been 1995,” Patricia answers. “Philip and I were in the King’s Arms one night, when we struck up a conversation with Simon and his wife, Sandra. We all hit it off right away and a few days after that we invited the couple to dinner, along with Lucy and John. The six of us became inseparable over the next few years.”

 

“I remember that,” Ellie adds. “You were all really close.”

 

“What happened to change that?” Hardy asks.

 

“Nothing ominous, Har-dy,” Lucy drawls. “In 1998, Tricia and her husband moved to London, and not long after that Simon and Sandra moved away. We kept in contact for a while but you know how it is? You have the best of intentions but you get busy, and more time passes, and pretty soon you lose touch altogether.”

 

Perking up, Ellie smiles at Patricia. “You live in London? I’ve just got back from there. I love London. Saturday evening I went on the London Eye. I’ve been on it before of course but I just had to go on it again. The view is amazing. Are you still working as a dental nurse in Primary Schools?”

 

Patricia takes a sip of water before shaking her head. “I’m still in the dental industry but I work for a private clinic now.”

 

“Dentistry in schools has really gone downhill the past few years,” Ellie jabbers. “Hate to think what it will be like by the time my two youngest children start Primary.” 

 

Hardy throws Ellie a pointed look. It’s obvious to Lucy that she catches his meaning, because her face falls, and she closes her mouth.

 

_Whoa, Ellie was right,_ Lucy thinks _. He is strict._ She has to admit though; her sister does have a tendency to babble incessantly.

 

“And tonight would’ve been the first time either of you has seen him since he left Broadchurch seventeen years ago?” Hardy says, clearly determined to get the conversation back on topic.

 

Both women nod.

 

“Who arranged tonight’s get together?” Hardy says, inclining his head towards her.

 

“I did,” Lucy says. “When Tricia phoned to say she was planning a trip to Broadchurch I suggested it was a golden opportunity to catch up with the others, so I contacted Simon on Facebook to invite him and Sandra. He sent me a private message back with his mobile number. When I rung him he told me he and Sandra had split five years ago.”

 

“He definitely had a mobile?”

 

“Of course he did,” Lucy scoffs. “Who doesn’t have a mobile in this day and age?”

 

“His phone wasn’t at the scene.” Reaching into his pocket he brings out his Blackberry. “What’s his number?”

 

Placing her handbag on the table, Lucy locates her mobile, and a few seconds later she’s reading the number out to Hardy who’s poised, ready to punch it in.

 

Lucy watches with interest as he puts the phone to his ear, curious to see if anyone will pick up at the other end. She almost jumps out of her skin when Hardy barks, “Who is this?” A beat passes, and his face relaxes. “Okay, ta,” he says in a much calmer, almost disappointed tone, disconnecting.

 

He turns to Ellie, whose eyebrows practically shot up to the roof when Hardy’s call was picked up. “That was SOCO Brian,” he informs her. “Forensics found his mobile about five minutes ago, down the same bank where his licence was dumped.”

 

“Oh, right,” she says.

 

Hardy’s eyes return to Lucy. “Do you know where Albury’s ex-wife lives now?”

 

“According to Simon she remarried about a year ago and emigrated to Canada.”

 

“Any children?”

 

“No, they wanted them, but Sandra had difficultly conceiving.” She takes a deep breath. “It was something we had in common because I had the same trouble after Olly.” She notices Ellie regarding her with sad eyes.

 

“What else did he say when you spoke to him?”

 

“Nothing much really. We spent most of the conversation reminiscing about the good old days. He did say he co-owns his own insurance company in Weymouth.”

 

“He didn’t mention anyone, or anything, he was having issues with?”

 

Shaking her head, Lucy takes another drink of water. “No.”

 

“Any enemies when he lived here?”

 

“No. Everyone liked him.”

 

Patricia’s shaking her head as well, “None.”

 

Hardy stands. “Erm, thanks. If you think of anything else give us a bell.”

 

Ellie takes her time climbing to her feet. “I’m very sorry about your friend, Luce,” she says, her eyes moist and compassionate. “Ring if you need me?”

 

“I will, thanks Ell.”

 

Watching them leave, Lucy thinks she could really use a drink right about now.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

“And then Kirsty showed me this really cool trick for working out trigonometry – Mum!” Tom complains. “You’re not even listening?”

 

Ellie, in the process of dragging the vacuum cleaner from the hall cupboard, lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m interested, I really am, but I want to do a quick round with the hoover before I put Fred and Maxine down.”

 

She’s not sure why she’s bothering hurrying. It’s already way past the kid’s bedtime, but Ellie’s determined to at least make some effort to keep up with the housework, starting with the floors. By the state of them, it doesn’t look as if Alec hoovered the carpet the entire time she was in London.

 

After speaking to Lucy and Patricia, Alec had unceremoniously instructed her to go home, be with their kids that he wouldn’t be far behind. She had protested, but he had insisted, assuring her that he just had to update the Super, and then he’d send the team home, and finish for the day. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she had relented, knew it was getting late, and that she couldn’t expect Daisy, Chloe and Kirsty to look after the kids indefinitely.

 

“Mum,” Tom says, breaking into her reverie. “Do you mind not calling me sweetheart anymore? Well at least not in front of other people? I’m fourteen, and it’s really embarrassing.”

 

She suspects ‘other people’ translates to ‘Kirsty’. Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. He’s growing up so fast. “All right. I understand. But... who will I call sweetheart now? Alec? He’ll like it even less than you do.”

 

Tom howls with laughter. “Can I be there when you do?” Worry replaces his amusement. “You wouldn’t call him that at the station would you?”

 

_Perish the thought_ , Ellie thinks. “Definitely not. He’d never speak to me again.”

  

* * *

 

 

DAISY

 

Trudging downstairs the next morning, Daisy feels like she’s eighty years-old. Well as she imagines eighty might feel. She’s always been hopeless first thing. Stomping into the kitchen she’s surprised to discover she’s the first one up. Well not surprised about Chloe, but Kirsty’s normally the first one downstairs.

 

The kids will be arriving shortly, she thinks, rubbing her tired eyes. It was eight o’clock by the time she’d dropped them off the night before. Ellie had looked pretty shattered, and her dad hadn’t even been there. Daisy had offered to stay over, but Ellie had smiled, insisting that she’d done more than enough for one day and to take a well deserved break. Ellie said they’d undoubtedly be late more nights during the early days of the investigation, but that they’d definitely be paid overtime. Daisy didn’t mind, she loved spending time with her younger siblings. She’d asked about the case, but Ellie hadn’t been able to divulge much. She did say that the victim had been an old friend of Lucy’s. Daisy wonders if she should give Ellie’s sister a call, offer her condolences? She hopes her dad and Ellie catch the person responsible soon.

 

Flipping the switch on the electric kettle, she spies Kirsty through the window, bundled up in a coat, scarf and hat, gathering herbs from the little garden box on the back porch. Bloody hell, she’s keen. It’s Kirsty’s turn to cook tonight, but talk about planning ahead. It must be flipping freezing outside at half seven in the morning. Daisy wishes she had half her friend’s dedication. Grinning, she leans forward, knocking on the window. Kirsty looks up, smiling and waving.

 

Drink made, Daisy sinks into a chair, staring blankly into her coffee, willing herself to wake up properly. Her eyes drift over the surface of the table, and spotting something out of place she stares for a moment before letting out a bark of laughter. Fred owns a set of those ABC blocks with a letter on one side and a picture and word matching the corresponding letter on the other. Four of them are lined up on the surface of the table to spell out the word, ‘help’.

 

Yawning, a freshly-showered Chloe shuffles into the kitchen, a towel wound around her head turban style.

 

“Hey, Chlo, look at this?” Daisy calls, waving her over. “Think Fred’s trying to tell us something?”

 

Following Daisy’s gaze, Chloe grins. “Ooh, maybe.”

 

“He did spell out his name yesterday, but don’t think he’s yet mastered the word ‘help’.”

 

“We’ll have to tell him he spelt a word. Hey better not let your dad or Ellie see it. Might think we’ll not taking care of Fred properly?”

 

Amused, Daisy scatters the blocks.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

ALEC

 

Even though they are ninety nine point nine percent certain their victim is Simon Albury, as a formality his business partner at Albury-Cameron Insurance drives down from Weymouth on Tuesday to identify the body. It is him. DS Brooks contacts Simon’s ex-wife, Sandra, in Ontario. She’s distressed by the news but can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt him. Says as far as divorces go, theirs was fairly amicable, that they simply grew apart. The passport office confirms she hasn’t travelled back to Britain since emigrating to Canada ten months ago.

 

Monday afternoon the phone company reveals an interesting fact. Albury had taken a thirty second call from a pay as you go mobile at five twenty nine, Monday evening (the night he died). Unfortunately they were unable to trace the pay as you go but they did say that it was only used to make that one call. Alec suspects the killer had placed the call to arrange to meet Albury on the Coastal Road, further suggesting that he knew the person. The phone company also confirmed that Lucy Stevens had spoken to him four days before his death, and that the call had lasted sixteen minutes, twenty three seconds, which fits with what she told them.

 

First thing Wednesday morning he and Ellie head to the pathology lab to speak to Dr Bell.

 

“Victim sustained two blows,” the pathologist surprises Alec by saying. “First blow, back of the head, caused by his head striking the lid of the boot, merely stunned him. Second blow was the one that killed him, cracked skull; massive internal haemorrhage.”

 

“Any idea what was used to strike the second blow?”

 

“Cylindrical object. I’m guessing the torch you found at the scene.”

 

“Lab ran it for fingerprints – only found Simon’s,” Alec says matter-of-factly. “Will have to test it for blood and brain matter. Time of death?”

 

“Between half five and six o’clock.”

 

“He was alive at five twenty nine cos he received a call on his mobile,” Alec confirms. “Thanks for your time, doctor.”

 

Following the visit to the pathologist, Alec makes a statement to the media appealing to any motorists driving down the Coastal Road between five and six-thirty PM on Monday evening.

 

After speaking to the media, he and Ellie are crossing the supermarket parking lot after grabbing something for lunch, when Alec receives an unwelcome surprise. Leaning against his car is a familiar face, one he hasn’t seen in over two years, and one he hoped he’d never see again – Steve Connolly.

 

Ellie doesn’t look happy to see him either, is undoubtedly remembering how he tried to con Beth at a time when she was at her most grief-stricken and vulnerable.

 

Spotting them, Connolly pushes himself away from Alec’s car.

 

“Hope you haven’t damaged my paintwork,” Alec says, shooting him an annoyed look.

 

“Nice to see you too, DI Hardy.” He jerks his head at Ellie. “DS Miller.”

 

Alec snorts. Some psychic he is. Doesn’t even know they’re married. “What do you want, Connolly?” he practically growls.

 

“I have some information for you? About Simon Albury.”

 

“Actual information or a message from the spiritual realm?” Ellie asks. Alec detects a curious note in her voice which irritates him.

 

“We don’t bloody have time for this,” he says firmly, signalling with the plastic shopping bag he’s carrying for Ellie to go ahead of him, increasing his pace to get away from the man.

 

Stepping in front of him, Connolly blocks his path, which pisses Alec off even more. “Get out of my way,” he warns.

 

Looking desperate, Connolly holds up his hands as if to ward him off. “Just listen,” he says. “He was killed by someone he knows.”

 

Alec blows out a breath, “Fascinating. Most murder victims are.”

 

“He died at exactly five forty seven. I felt it.”

 

“Information you could’ve easily acquired from the statement I made to the media earlier today.”

 

But Connolly’s not giving up. “He was struck on the head, wasn’t he? I was jogging along the beach when I felt something hit the back of my head causing me to sink to my knees in the sand. I thought I’d been struck by a flying rock but when I felt the back of my head I couldn’t locate an injury. I was just recovering my wits when I felt a second blow, much worse than the first. The pain was excruciating, like nothing I’ve ever felt. I could taste the blood in my mouth. Then just as quickly as it started the pain abated as if it had never happened in the first place. It wasn’t until I saw you on the news that I made the connection.”

 

Alec remains poker faced, taking extra care not to give anything away. He checks Ellie’s expression relieved to note she looks just as indifferent. That’s his good girl, he thinks.  Inwardly he’s a wee bit perturbed by the man’s accuracy – wonders if he’s somehow managed to plant a camera in the pathology lab.

 

“Get out of here,” he says sternly. “Stop wasting police time and if you continue to interfere with an ongoing investigation I’ll have you arrested. And if I find out you obtained any of your information regarding this case illegally I’ll have you thrown in the nick so fast you won’t know what’s hit you.”

 

Connolly sighs. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me but felt I owed it to the victim to try.” To Alec’s relief he starts to walk away. “By the way,” he throws over his shoulder. “Congratulations on your marriage. I’ve been told this one will work out.”

 

Alec mentally kicks himself; realising Connolly was playing him earlier. That he knew all along they were married. He glances at Ellie who’s looking awestruck by the so-called psychic’s words.

 

“Christ. You don’t actually believe him, do you?” he asks her, frowning at her across the roof of his car.

 

“Cos not,” she mutters. But as she climbs into the driver’s seat he notices the way she avoids his eyes. And when she thinks he’s not looking a smile crosses her face. Pulling his seatbelt on, he shakes his head, marvelling over her gullibility.

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

_Me_

 

She stares at the new word on the table utilising Fred’s blocks. It’s Friday morning, three days since she found the word ‘help’. Somehow she doesn’t think the preschooler would have struck gold twice. Although it’s only two letters so she can’t rule it out.

 

Fully dressed, and alert as always, Kirsty practically skips into the kitchen stopping short as if she can’t quite believe Daisy’s made it downstairs before her. ”What are you looking at?” she asks.

 

“Another word. Look.”

 

Glancing over her friends shoulder Kirsty lets out a moan. On Tuesday when she’d come in from the garden Daisy and Chloe had laughingly shown her the word ‘Fred’ had left. She hadn’t been as amused as the other two girls, didn’t like the idea that someone, even Fred, had left such a negative word as ‘help’, worried that it somehow reflected on her ability as a babysitter.

 

Daisy had put an arm around her shoulders. “’Help’ can mean a positive thing as well,” she’d reassured. “As in ‘thanks for the help’.” But Kirsty hadn’t looked convinced.

 

It suddenly occurs to her that Kirsty was the first one downstairs that day. She looks at her sceptically. “You’re not the one leaving the words are you? Because if you are it’s okay. It’s a clever joke. Has me flummoxed.”

 

Kirsty looks so distressed that Daisy’s immediately sorry she brought it up. In fact she looks like she’s about to cry.

 

Closing the distance between them, Daisy gives her a quick hug. “I shouldn’t have said that. Of course I don’t think it’s you. I just had to ask for my own peace of mind.” She gives Kirsty a devilish grin. “It’ll be bloody Chloe.”

 

This elicits a small smile from her friend.

 

“What? I didn’t do it.” Chloe says five minutes later, when Daisy poses the same question to her.

 

Daisy stamps her foot. “Oh come on Chloe, ‘fess up?”

 

“I swear, Daze. It wasn’t me,” Chloe insists. Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “How do we know it wasn’t you?”

 

Looking her dead on, Daisy says: “Because it wasn’t.”

 

“Why should I believe you,” Chloe says, crossing her arms over her chest

 

“I asked Fred yesterday about the word ‘help’, and he seemed confused,” Kirsty says tactfully re-directing the conversation. “He said it wasn’t him. And the blocks were on the centre of the table. Too high for Fred to reach.”

 

“Oh c’mon, that kid would have no trouble climbing up onto a chair, and then onto the table? At Dad’s I found him on the kitchen counter once. Still not sure how he managed that one.”

 

“Yeah, but climbing up on the table while carrying four blocks would be difficult for a three year old, especially him, because no offense to your brother but he is quite clumsy. We keep them in the sitting room in the toy box. We’ve never played with them in here.”

 

“Ooh, spooky.” Chloe says, wiggling her fingers in the air.

 

Daisy quickly comes up with another scenario. “It’ll be Tom, then. Bet he thinks it’s a hell of a lark trying to scare us. Three girls alone in the house.”

 

Kirsty’s shaking her head, “I don’t think Tom would do that?”

 

“He so would. You’re blinded by the fact that he practically worships the ground you walk on.” She imitates Tom from the night before, “Oh Kirsty, this beef stroganoff is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

 

She and Chloe dissolve into laughter. Kirsty looks a little put out at first but pretty soon she’s chuckling along with them.

 

Chloe cracks her knuckles. “I’m gonna kick Tom’s arse this afternoon,” she vows.

 

It suddenly occurs to Daisy that if you string together Tuesday morning’s word and today’s it reads ‘help me’. She’s unable to prevent the chill from passing down her spine. Certain that it’s just a weird coincidence, and not wanting to panic her friends, especially Kirsty, she makes the decision to keep it to herself.

 

* * *

 

Later that afternoon they grill Tom.

 

“Are you all bonkers? I don’t know anything about any stupid words using alphabet blocks.” He swings around, “You believe me, don’t you Kirsty?”

 

In the process of watering a plant on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, Kirsty avoids looking at him. “I want to.”

 

“If I find out differently I’ll wring your bloody neck,” Chloe says in a shrill voice.

 

Later on, when she drives Tom, Fred, and Maxine home Daisy has a quiet word with him.

 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to own up,” she says quietly. “You’re probably embarrassed right?” He opens his mouth to speak but she holds up a hand to forestall him. “No, just listen. I know you would’ve only meant it as a joke but try to see it from our point-of-view. We’re alone in the house. It’s a little scary.”

 

Turning his back to her, he stares out the passenger window. “Can’t believe you don’t believe me.”

 

From his car seat Fred yells: “I don’t want you playing with MY blocks, Tom. THESE are the people who are allowed to play with them.” He ticks off on his fingers. “Lizzie, Max, Kirsty, Daisy, and Chloe.” Screwing up his face, he points a finger at his brother. “NOT, you!”

 

Pivoting in his seat, Tom bares his teeth. “I haven’t touched your bloody precious toys!”

 

“Oh, give it a rest you two,” Daisy snaps.

 

There’s a lot of tension when they reach Dad and Ellie’s.

 

Entering the house, Tom storms up the stairs and a moment later Daisy hears his bedroom door slam.

 

Hearing the commotion, Ellie emerges from the sitting room. “What’s up with him?” she asks, frowning in the direction of the stairs. Wiggling her eyebrows, she gives Daisy an ‘uh oh’ look. “Did Kirsty reject him? I was afraid something like that might happen.”

 

With a bemused smile, Daisy shakes her head.

 

The next day, Saturday, is their day off, even though Dad and Ellie still have to work. Daisy told them they’d do it but Ellie said Lucy and her friend Patricia had already volunteered to take Maxine, and that Chloe’s parents are taking Fred and Lizzie to the funfair in Bournemouth.

 

There’s no ‘word’ on the table that day. Further evidence that the culprit is indeed Tom Miller. Even Kirsty’s almost convinced it’s him now.

 

They sleep late Saturday, not getting out of bed until nearly lunchtime. Well at least Daisy and Chloe do. Just like the weekdays Kirsty rises at the same time and when she and Chloe finally make it downstairs she’s prepared a delicious brunch of Eggs Benedict, and it’s not even her turn to cook. It’s a welcome treat because the meal Chloe prepared the night before of overcooked beans on toast wasn’t much chop.

 

After lunch they climb into her car and head for the shops in Devon. They have so much fun wandering around the mall spending some of their hard-earned babysitting money. After having dinner at a pizzeria that serves delicious gourmet pizzas they head back to the Ackerman’s. It’s a great day.

 

To their great relief there is no ‘word’ on the table Sunday morning either.

 

That day they’re up with the birds because they have Fred and Maxine to look after. Ellie phones to say Tom is spending the day with a friend so not to bother about him. Daisy can’t help feeling guilty, wonders if she was too hard on him, before remembering there have been no new messages since she confronted him, so he’s brought it on himself. No Lizzie because Beth doesn’t work weekends, but Nursery is closed so they have Fred all day and he can be a handful at the best of times. A handful Daisy and Chloe have to deal with alone for a couple of hours in the morning while Kirsty attends Sunday service at St Andrews Church with her parents. She bakes cheese scones for Youth Group, kindly leaving some for Daisy, Chloe, and Fred.

 

The next morning their luck runs out. Not only that, the messenger has become more inventive, leaving two words, rather than one. The message reads ‘Escape Now’. Even worse is when they realise Tom hasn’t set foot inside the house since Friday.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

Monday morning rolls around and they have yet to catch Simon’s killer. It’s been a week since she’s returned to work – feels like a lot longer.

 

The previous Thursday she and Alec had driven to Simon’s flat in Weymouth, hoping that his residence would offer up some kind of miraculous clue regarding who killed him. Unfortunately nothing jumped out at them. Just your typical flat for a divorced man in his late forties. They spoke to the neighbours who all said Simon was likeable and charming but also quite the ladies man, and regularly brought women back to his flat.

 

“He tried it on with me once,” she’d said to Alec as they’re walked towards the lift in Simon’s building. “At Olly’s eighth birthday.”

 

He’d stopped short, turning to face her. “What?” he’d said in an annoyed voice. “Simon Albury flirted with you?”

 

She remembers feeling pleased that he’s jealous of Simon hitting on her years before they’d even met.

 

Naturally he’d spoilt it by screwing up his face, and saying: “But you would’ve been a teenager.”

 

Okay! Not jealous then. Just disgusted that a grown man would hit on a teenage girl.

 

“I was nineteen,” she’d protested. “Not exactly young.”

 

“Which would make him ten years older? Maybe we should be looking into his predilection for young girls.”

 

“I don’t think he was that way inclined. He was like that with everyone.” She’d pulled a revolted face. “I even caught him chatting up my mum once.”

 

He’d grunted, still looking unconvinced.

 

Saturday and Sunday were so quiet and uneventful that at one point Ellie had wished she was at the fun fair in Bournemouth with Fred and the Latimer’s. Then she’d immediately felt guilty for making light of the fact that a man has been murdered, a man who had once been one of her sister’s closest friends.

 

On Friday, lab results from the torch revealed minute traces of blood belonging to Simon, supporting the theory that it was probably the murder weapon the killer used to strike the death blow.

 

“Ellie. You’re gonna wanna take this call.” DS Brooks says bringing her back to the present. From the desk directly opposite hers, he cradles the receiver to his shoulder. “I have an Ava Collins on the line, phoning from Weymouth. Says she has information regarding Simon Albury. Wants to talk to a female officer.”

 

She makes a grab for the phone on her desk. “Hello, Ms. Collins. DS Ellie Hardy speaking. “You’re calling about Simon Albury?”

 

“I’ve been away,” a woman’s voice says breathlessly. “I just got back today, and I saw it on the news. Is it true? Is Simon Albury really dead?”

 

“I’m afraid so,” Ellie tells her gently. “Was he a friend of yours?”

 

Bitter laughter sounds down the phone. “Not a friend, no. Three years ago, Simon Albury raped me.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

 DAISY

 

“They’ll make us give up house-sitting, and move back home where they can keep an eye on us? You know how overprotective my parents are since Danny? And your dad’s just as bad, Daisy. Is that what you both want?”

 

It’s half ten Monday morning, and the girls are sitting in the coffee shop near the beach, trying to decide what to do about the messages.

 

Daisy and Kirsty share a look. They both shake their heads. Next to Daisy, Maxine is sitting in the provided highchair, sucking on a teaspoon. Lizzie has a doctor’s appointment so Beth isn’t dropping her off until after lunch.

 

“So we agree, we don’t say anything, yeah?” Chloe presses.

 

Kirsty’s lower lip quivers. “But... but what if someone’s breaking in, and leaving those messages? We could be in danger?”

 

Placing her palms on the tabletop, Chloe’s expression hardens. “Leaving stupid messages on our kitchen table using children’s toys is hardly threatening is it? It’s probably just neighbourhood kids playing silly buggers.”

 

“But how are they getting in?” Daisy points out. “We never forget to lock up?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe one of the neighbours has a key?  Maybe they once watered plants for the Ackerman’s and never returned it? Tell you what, we’ll keep an eye on things, and if anything more serious happens we’ll go straight to our parents, deal?”

 

Jolting upright, Kirsty drops her coffee mug on the saucer with a clatter. “I just thought of something. Wh... what if the house is haunted?”

 

In the process of taking a sip of her own coffee, Daisy sputters: “That’s just plain ridiculous.”

 

Looking thoughtful, Chloe holds up her hand. “No, wait a minute Daze, Kirsty could be onto something. It makes more sense than any other explanation we’ve managed to come up with.”

 

“That makes sense to you?”

 

“Not only that, but it’s given me a brilliant idea.”

 

Before she has a chance to share this ‘brilliant’ idea Ellie’s journalist nephew, Olly Stevens, saunters over to their table, carrying four coffees in a takeaway tray. “Good morning, ladies,” he says, flashing them a charming grin. “How’s the house-sitting going?”

 

Chloe twirls her hair around her finger. “We’re definitely enjoying having no parents around to tell us what to do.”

 

“Yeah, but you can’t relate to that can you Olly, cos you still live at home?” Daisy’s unable to resist adding, giving her step cousin a saccharine smile.

 

Olly continues to smile, but the joy of it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Pausing next to the highchair he gives Maxine’s head an awkward pat. To Daisy’s immense enjoyment the baby responds by throwing the spoon at him, hitting him squarely on the nose.  

 

“I’ll have to come by one weekend, check the place out,” Olly says, rubbing his sore nose.

 

“Anytime,” Chloe says, giving him a playful look.

 

“Tosser,” Daisy mutters under her breath, once he’s gone.

 

“What did you invite him over for?” Kirsty looks aghast.

 

“What? I’ve always thought he’s pretty fit.”

 

Biting her lip, Kirsty’s face turns as red as a beetroot.

 

Making disgusted choking noises in the back of her throat, Daisy breaks off a chunk of her banana chocolate chip muffin, lobbing it at Chloe’s forehead.

 

Squealing, Chloe jerks her head to the side, narrowly avoiding the flying food missile.

 

“Hope Olly wasn’t bothering you?” Lucy Stevens asks, sidling up to their table, drawing Daisy’s attention to her stylish grey knitted dress. She’s always admired Ellie’s sister’s unique sense of style. They have discussed clothes, and been shopping on several occasions. As a detective her mum tends to favour business suits, and even though she does make an effort to dress up outside of work her clothing selections don’t compare to Lucy’s. And, ‘blindingly orange coat-wearing’ Ellie, wouldn’t make the right fashion choice if she stumbled over a decent outfit with an attached note pleading her to, “please, wear me.” The one exception being the day she married her dad. Even Daisy had to admit that Ellie had looked stunningly gorgeous on her wedding day.

 

“It’s all right, Max took care of Olly for us,” Daisy grins, reaching over to tickle her sister under the chin.

 

Accompanying Lucy is a woman in her late forties, who she introduces as Tricia. Daisy introduces the two women to Kirsty.

 

“Oh,” Lucy says. “I do your mum’s hair. Irene Nicholls, right?”

 

Smiling, Kirsty nods. She turns to Patricia. “We met the Sunday before last, didn’t we? Outside the church. I was with my parents.”

 

Lucy gives her friend a sideways look. “You attended church?”

 

“Just walking past.”

 

“Stalking the vicar more like.”

 

Patricia doesn’t deny it. “What can I say? He’s pretty gorgeous.”

 

“He is sort of cute,” Daisy admits, popping a piece of muffin in her mouth.

 

Kirsty’s mouth flies open in shock. “He’s a vicar.”

 

In the process of swallowing a mouthful of coffee, Chloe snorts with laughter causing the brown liquid to come out her nose. Covering her nose, she fumbles for a serviette.

 

“What? It’s not like I’m planning on going after him.” Daisy gives Chloe a teasing look. “He’s better looking than Olly, anyway. No offense Lucy.”

 

“None taken.” She wags a finger Chloe’s way. “And you steer clear of Olly, young lady. He’s too old for you.”

 

Sliding lower in her seat, Daisy gives her friend an apologetic look, feeling guilty for dropping her in it with Lucy.

 

“All right, all right,” Chloe says.

 

“So how’s everything going?” Lucy asks, making a beeline for the highchair to give her little niece a cuddle. “Enjoying your freedom?”

 

Avoiding looking at one another, the three girls plaster identical smiles on their faces. “Yes,” they reply in unison.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

“It happened when I was working for Albury-Cameron Insurance as a claims officer.”

 

Listening intently, Ellie straightens in her chair. After hanging up from Ava Collins she and Alec had driven straight to Weymouth for the second time in a week, meeting up with the young woman at a cafe near her place of work.

 

Speaking in monotone, Ava continues: “Simon and I were working late one night, just the two of us when he called me into his office and started coming on to me. At first I was okay with it, as he often flirted with me. I just laughed and brushed him off like I’d always done in the past. But this time he wouldn’t take no for an answer and before I knew what was happening he had locked the door. Then... then he raped me.”

 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Ellie says, quietly.

 

“You didn’t report it?” Alec asks.

 

“No, I didn’t want people to know, and it was my word against his,” Ava says. “I handed in my notice the next day. Tried to tell myself it didn’t happen.” Her voice is bleak. “Denial is my friend.”

 

“And he never tried to contact you?” Alec says. “Threaten you to keep quiet.”

 

“Thank god, no. Once I thought I caught a glimpse of him in Morrison’s so I abandoned my trolley in the middle of the supermarket and walked out. Not sure if it was him though.”

 

“Sorry to ask this but we need to know where you were between five and seven PM last Monday evening,” Ellie says.

 

“Out to dinner with five friends in a restaurant not far from Piccadilly Circus,” she says, pressing a hand against the side of her mouth.

 

From his coat pocket, Alec retrieves a pad and pen, sliding them across the table towards her. “We’re going to need you to write down their names and numbers.”

 

“You won’t mention the rape will you?” she asks, fingering her necklace, her eyes darting around the room. “Only one of my friends knows about it.”

 

“Definitely not. We just need to confirm your whereabouts, that’s all.”

 

Placated by his words Ava scrolls through her phone for their numbers.

 

“I’ve wished him dead so many times since it happened.” She smiles wryly, then winces, grabbing at her mouth. “Guess I probably shouldn’t say that in front of two detectives?”

 

Alec gives her a quizzical look. “Is there something wrong with your mouth?”

 

Rubbing her hand over her jaw, she nods: “I was racing for the tube a couple of weeks ago when I tripped and fell. Chipped my tooth in the process. My friend managed to get me in to see her dentist. Cost me a bomb and the bloody things still giving me grief.”

 

Alec looks grave as they head back to the car. “You never felt uncomfortable around Albury?”

 

“No, never.”

 

“God Ellie. When I think it might’ve been you... “

 

“It wasn’t,” she says softly, stepping forward to lay a hand on his unshaven cheek. Closing his eyes he leans into her touch. “Nothing happened to me.”

 

“We’ll have to mention this to your sister and Patricia Drake. See how they react.”

 

“Christ!” Ellie moans. “I almost forgot about Lucy. How am I supposed to tell her something like this? I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you trust.”

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

“Okay, it’s all arranged,” Chloe announces bouncing into the sitting room, mid afternoon.

 

Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, Maxine in her lap, Daisy looks up. “What is?”

 

“My idea regarding Kirsty’s ghost theory. I’ve invited a psychic over to see if he can sense any spirits in this house. He’ll be here at seven.”

 

Kirsty, in the process of reading to Fred and Lizzie, leaps to her feet, the book sliding from her lap. “Tonight? You invited him here at night? Are you mad?”

 

Fred looks forlornly at the dropped book. Slipping off the sofa, he picks it up, holding it out to his babysitter. “Read,” he demands.

 

“Well it has to be after the kids are gone, don’t it? Chloe says, her voice rising.”

 

“Who is this man?” Daisy demands to know.

 

“His name is Steve Connolly. He comes highly recommended by a friend of mine’s mother, who’s into all that stuff. And Mum doesn’t know I know this but he came over to our house and talked to her after Danny died. He has his own website, and everything, and all his books are on the shelf in WH Smith.”

 

Ignoring Fred, who continues to whine, Kirsty shakes her head. “I don’t want him coming here. I don’t like that sort of thing. Can’t you cancel it, please Chloe?”

 

“On come on Kirsty. Be a sport. It’ll be fun. Aren’t you just a little curious to find out what he has to say? I mean, what if this house really is haunted? We’d be doing the Ackerman’s a favour wouldn’t we? I’m happy to pay for it out of my share of the babysitting money.”

 

“He’s charging you?” Kirsty squeals.

 

“Course he is. Don’t be so naive. He’s providing a service, innit he?”

 

Mulling it over, Daisy says: “I’ll put some money towards it?”

 

Kirsty whirls around. “Daisy!”

 

“Sorry Kirst. I don’t really believe in psychics but Chloe’s right I am kind of curious.”

 

Realising she’s outnumbered, Kirsty sighs. “Fine,” she says, retrieving the book from Fred. “Count me in. But I still don’t like it.”

 

“Yes!” Chloe says, jumping up and down on the spot, causing all three children to squeal with laughter. “This is gonna be great. You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

 Bang on seven o’clock there’s a knock on the door.

 

“He’s here.” Chloe announces. She’s up off the sofa like a shot, racing for the door to let him in. With much less enthusiasm, Daisy and Kirsty trail after her.

 

As he steps into the house Daisy’s dismayed to discover how solid and well-built he is. He’s smiling, and looks friendly enough, but she finds herself taking a step backwards anyway, and then feels foolish for being intimidated by him.

 

Chloe conducts the introductions, and Connolly shakes each of their hands. Daisy notes that his grip is firm and strong. He could snap my arm like a twig if he wanted to, she thinks.

 

Immediately after discovering this morning’s message on the table she’d sent Tom an apology text. _So sorry we accused you. We now know you had nothing to do with it. Please forgive us? Daisy, Chloe, Kirsty xx._ But he hadn’t replied, nor had he turned up at their place after school.

 

Connolly clears his throat. “I’m sorry to bring this up but I normally like to get payment out of the way before I start.”

 

“Of course,” Chloe says, sliding the folded notes from her jeans pocket. After conceding to Connolly’s visit, Daisy and Kirsty had both given Chloe money towards the cause.

 

As Daisy watches, he quickly counts it, before shoving it in the pocket of his anorak.

 

“I’ll show you to the kitchen,” Chloe says. “That’s the room we’ve been having trouble with.”

 

In the kitchen Connolly starts wandering around, pausing every now and then to close his eyes and breathe deeply. Finally settling on a spot in the centre of the room, he again closes his eyes, breathing slowly in and out.

 

From the doorway the three girls watch with bated breath, anxiously awaiting his verdict. Even though Daisy doesn’t really believe in the paranormal she still finds herself clenching her right hand so tightly that she can feel her fingernails digging into the skin of her palm.

 

Finally he opens his eyes. “No,” he says, his face breaking into a sure smile. “There’s nothing amiss in here. This room is clean.”

 

Relaxing, Daisy lets out a whoosh of breath.

 

“Do you have any sage or thyme?” he asks. “When burned, both release aromas that are excellent for cleansing and purifying a house. Even though I haven’t picked up on anything it still might be worthwhile.”

 

“There’s sage in the herb garden,” Kirsty says, poised ready to bolt for the back door.

 

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” Connolly informs her. “It has to be dried.” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “I should’ve thought to bring some with me.”

 

_Especially with what we’re paying you,_ Daisy thinks savagely.

 

As if he’s heard her thoughts, Connolly raises his head and looks straight at her. “Your parent’s are lying to you?” he suddenly announces.

 

Standing right next to her, Kirsty omits a squeak. “My parents are lying to me? What do you mean?” she practically shrieks.

 

“No, not yours, Daisy’s. They’ve been lying to her for years.”

 

“What about?” Daisy challenges, her eyes flashing.

 

“I’m sorry. That’s not clear.”

 

“Great,” she says, slapping her hands against her thighs, both annoyed and disappointed by his vagueness. “What’s the point of saying that then?”

 

He shrugs. “That’s all the information I’m receiving from my spirit guide.”

 

Next, they lead him to the sitting room, where he goes through the same ritual as before.

 

“No, nothing here,” he says almost immediately. “Would you mind showing me the upstairs?”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Daisy catches Kirsty’s look of alarm. She has to admit she isn’t thrilled by the prospect of letting him traipse through their bedrooms either.

 

Chloe appears to have no issue with it, and eagerly escorts him upstairs. To Daisy’s relief he doesn’t linger in either her bedroom, or Chloe’s, quickly pronouncing both spaces ‘spirit free’.

 

Kirsty’s is the last room they enter, and as soon as Connelly steps over the threshold his entire demeanour changes. A panicked expression crosses his face as his eyes dart anxiously around the room, his agitation growing moment by moment.

 

“Yes, yes,” he says, pacing the carpet, fidgeting with his hands. “There’s a sadness in this room. Something happened here. Something terrible. Something violent.”

 

Moaning, Kirsty covers her face with her hands. “Why does it have to be the room I’m sleeping in?”

 

“There’s a man,” Connolly continues. “He’s having trouble moving on. I can feel his energy drenched in guilt and sorrow. He can’t forgive himself.”

 

He perches on the end of Kirsty’s bed, closing his eyes to address the spirit. “You may move on,” he breathes in a calm tone, speaking in short slow sentences. “There’s nothing for you here. Go, you may depart. Leave the pain behind.”

 

During his speech his eyes drift to the ceiling, as if he’s really communicating with an invisible being. Daisy can’t help but glance up as well. Of course she sees nothing.

 

Connolly’s eyes fly open, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “There,” he says. “All done.”

 

Standing, he heads for the window, and brushing the curtains aside, pushes it wide open, as if to release the entity.

 

“Are you sure he’s gone?” Kirsty asks, chewing on her nails.

 

He turns towards her. “Certain. He’s gone where he’s meant to.”

 

“I don’t care. I’m not sleeping in here tonight.” Piling her pyjamas, pillow, and duvet in her arms, Kirsty leaves the room.

 

“It’s all right,” Connolly calls after her. “There’s nothing to fear. This house is quite safe now.” He turns to the remaining two girls. “You feel it, right?”

 

The hairs rise on the back of Daisy’s arms at his words.

 

“Well that was weird,” Chloe announces as soon as they’ve closed, and locked the door, firmly behind him.

 

“What were you expecting?” Daisy says, huffing out a breath.

 

Chloe squints at her. “Aren’t you curious to know what he meant when he said that Hardy and your mum are lying to you?”

 

“No, that psychic was full of shit.” Even as she speaks the words she’s not entirely sure whether she believes them.

 

“You’re probably right. It’s no secret Steve Connolly hates your dad cos Hardy didn’t take him seriously when he told him he had information about Danny. I remember Olly reporting it on Twitter.”

 

“How would he know he’s my dad? We didn’t give him our surnames.”

 

Chloe laughs. “I keep forgetting you didn’t grow up in a small village. He doesn’t need to, everyone knows everyone here. He would’ve seen you around town with Hardy.”

 

A commotion from the kitchen has them both spinning around.

 

Reaching the doorway they find Kirsty frantically rummaging through the pantry, pushing aside food items, knocking some over in her haste, which is a bit disconcerting to watch as their friend is normally so tidy.

 

“What are you doing?” Daisy asks.

 

“I remember seeing some dried sage in here the other day,” she says, continuing to shove the contents of the pantry around.

 

Daisy looks at Chloe; both worried Kirsty’s losing it. “Kirsty, calm down,” she says carefully. “There’s no reason to go off half-cocked.”

 

Abandoning her search, Kirsty rounds on her. “You’re not the one sleeping in a room where something bad happened.”

 

“I’ll swap rooms with you, yeah?” She’s a little frightened herself, isn’t totally happy with the idea of sleeping in a room where a spirit may have been vanquished ten minutes beforehand, but she’s willing to do it if it helps Kirsty.

 

Relief crosses Kirsty’s face, and for a hopeful moment Daisy thinks that’s going to be enough to placate her, but pretty soon she’s shaking her head. “No, none of us are sleeping in there.” She turns back to the pantry.

 

“Found it,” she says less than ten seconds later, her voice muffled by the cupboard door. She turns to face them holding a Ziploc bag containing sage. Daisy watches as she heads for the cupboard next to the sink, pulls out a large saucepan, and places it on the hob.

 

“How do you know what to do?” Daisy asks, fascinated. Half an hour ago Kirsty didn’t know whether the sage had to be fresh or dried.

 

“I googled it, of course, while you were showing Steve Connolly to the door.” Unzipping the bag she places the herb in the pot. “Chloe, can I borrow your lighter.” It’s no secret that Chloe smokes.

 

Rummaging in her pocket Chloe hands over her blue Bic. Lighting the end of the sage Kirsty waits for the end to blacken and smoke before extinguishing the flame. The distinctive acrid tang of burning sage fills the air.

 

Coughing, which to Daisy seems a little dramatic considering she’s a smoker, Chloe waves a hand back and forth in front of her face as smoke billows towards her. “Crikey, it reeks.”

 

Wearing a look of determination, Kirsty proceeds to purify every room.

 

“There,” she tells them, once she’s finished. “All done.”

 

It’s still not enough to convince her to return to her bedroom, and she spends the night on the sofa.

 

The next morning they find the words ‘So Much Pain’ on the table.

 


	5. Chapter 5

ALEC

 

He’s feeling frustrated because they’ve run out of leads.

 

Ava Collins’ friends, as well as staff at the London restaurant confirm the young woman was where she said she was the evening of Albury’s murder. Not only that, CCTV shows Ava and her friends walking past The Sting in Regent Street at precisely 17:27. He has officers going through Simon’s past with a fine-tooth comb for any indication of similar incidents involving violence or hatred towards women, but so far they’ve turned up nothing untoward. Although like Ava, there may be other women who haven’t come forward. He’s instructed Ellie to stop by Lucy’s later to talk to her and Patricia. Alec had thought it would be better for her to go on her own, felt the two women would open up more about a sensitive topic if he wasn’t there.

 

Maxine snuggled against his chest he trudges up Daisy’s driveway Tuesday morning.

 

When his daughter opens the door, he immediately notices her saggy posture as well as the dark circles beneath her eyes. She mumbles good morning in a dull, flat tone. Concerned, he wonders if looking after the kids is becoming too much for her. Probably doesn’t help that he and Ellie have been late almost every night since Simon Albury was murdered.

 

He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, when her face relaxes and she starts to laugh.

 

 _Okay,_ he thinks. _Obviously read that wrong._

 

“Look at you,” she giggles, cupping her hands over her mouth, “in your plain boring suit carrying Max wearing a pink glitter print puffer jacket with a fur trimmed hood.”

 

Unimpressed, he groans loudly, “Another ridiculous impractical item of clothing courtesy of Lucy. I’m convinced the woman does it just to annoy me.” Inclining his head towards her, he wrinkles his face. “She’s never liked me much.”

 

This morning when Ellie had carried Maxine downstairs wearing the coat he’d balked, quickly informing his wife that he had no intention of taking the baby out of the house dressed like that.

 

“She looks like one of those dogs women dress up and carry around in their handbags,” he’d protested.

 

Of course that hadn’t gone down well. Hands on her hips, Ellie had glared at him. “Did you seriously just compare _our_ daughter to a Chihuahua?”

 

Five minutes later he’d stamped out the door, Maxine in his arms. Bloody Ellie had gotten her way yet again.

 

Daisy reaches for the baby, shaking him out of his reverie. “I think she looks adorable. Lucy has supine taste. Wait until Kirsty sees you,” she coos at Maxine. “Might cheer her up.”

 

He seizes on that remark. “What’s wrong with Kirsty?”

 

Smile sliding from her face, Daisy shakes her head. “Um, nothing.”

 

He rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “Maybe it’s catching. Tom’s been in a bad mood for days.”

 

If anything her face falls even more.

 

“What’s bothering you, darling?” he asks, his voice gentle.

 

Daisy rubs her hands up and down her arms. “Um... I have to tell you – “

 

But he’s no longer listening; his nose having suddenly zoned in on a strangely sweet smoky smell. Frowning, he sniffs at the air. “Is something burning?” He takes another whiff. “It smells like –“ Rounding on her, his eyes bulge. “Are you girls smoking marijuana?”

 

Omitting a gasp, Daisy stumbles backwards at the fury in his face. “What? No! It’s just sage.”

 

He gives her a blank look.

 

“The herb,” she clarifies. “You burn it to release good vibes. Similar to lighting a scented candle.”

 

“Really?” he shouts, advancing on her. “You seriously expect me to believe that?” In his arms Maxine lets out a yelp of fright, and starts to cry.

 

Drawn by the raised voices, Kirsty rushes out of the kitchen. “It’s true Mr Hardy, it’s only sage,” she says holding out a dried greenish plant bundled together with string. He notices her hand is trembling, and he instantly feels ashamed, his anger diminishing.

 

“Sorry,” he apologises, gently bouncing the crying baby, rubbing her back to soothe her. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that. It’s this case – they’re scaling back our resources as of today.”

 

Kirsty looks worried. “Does that mean you’re no longer looking for who killed that man?”

 

“We definitely are, just makes our job harder that’s all.” Giving them both a grateful smile, he hands Maxine (who has thankfully stopped crying) to Daisy. “You girls are doing a great job. Well done.”

 

Daisy doesn’t return his smile.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

Sitting in Lucy’s warm sunny kitchen seems wrong somehow given what she’s about to tell them. Wrapping her hands around her mug of tea, Ellie studies the two women sitting opposite her. “I’m afraid some disturbing news has come to light relating to Simon.” She proceeds to tell them Ava Collins was raped by their friend.

 

The two women regard each other in alarm.

 

“You believe her?” Lucy asks tentatively.

 

Ellie nods. “Yes I do. So does Alec.”

 

“It doesn’t make sense,” Patricia says. “I mean I always knew Simon was flirtatious, but rape, no way.”

 

“But you haven’t had any contact with him in years,” Ellie reminds her. “People change.”

 

“Not that much,” Lucy says firmly, shaking her head.

 

“I’m sorry to have to ask this, but did either of you ever feel uneasy or nervous around him in any way? Even something small that you might not have thought meant anything at the time?”

 

“Nothing springs to mind,” Lucy tells her.

 

“Sorry Ellie,” Patricia says. “I can’t think of anything like that.” Near her elbow, her phone beeps. Reading the screen, a slow smile spreads across her face. “It’s from my son Liam,” she tells them. “He’s sent me a text every day to check in on me, since Simon died.”

 

“What are your kids up to these days?” Ellie inquires politely

 

“Liam’s in banking, and Jessica’s a pastry chef.”

 

“Ooh, Good jobs.”

 

“Yes, I’m very proud of them. They’re amazing kids. Well... guess they’re not kids anymore, but they’re always be my babies.”

 

“I can relate. I feel the exact same way about my eldest, Tom, and my husband’s daughter, Daisy.”

 

“I met Daisy yesterday. She, and her friends, are all lovely girls. Gorgeous as well. Bet the boys are constantly flocking around them?”

 

“It seems Olly is among the _flock_ ,” Lucy sighs. “Caught him sniffing around them yesterday.”

 

Doing a double take, Ellie bangs her mug down on the table top.

 

“Don’t worry, Ell,” Lucy circles the air with her hand. “I read him the riot act last night over dinner.”

 

“Good. Otherwise I would’ve given him a right bollocking. I still might. Little shit!”

 

“I’m glad I no longer have to worry about all that with Jess,” Patricia says. “She recently got engaged.”

 

“Oh congratulations. When’s the wedding?”

 

“Next June. She’s even having an alcohol free wedding. She’s such a thoughtful darling.”

 

A line dents Ellie’s forehead. “Is Jess an alcoholic?” she ventures cautiously.

 

Patricia meets Lucy’s eyes. “You haven’t told her?”

 

“Of course not. I wouldn’t betray your trust like that.” 

 

“It’s all right. It’s not a secret.” She turns serious eyes on Ellie. “I’m a recovering alcohol. Will be eighteen years sober next January.”

 

Ellie struggles to hide her surprise, “Oh.” She looks at Lucy curiously.

 

“Yes,” her sister confirms. “Patricia’s aware of my own struggles with alcohol. Knows I’ve been sober for eighteen months. God, when I think of how much alcohol we all used to consume back then?” She shakes her head. “Not just back then, for me. I can’t help thinking that if I had of gotten my drinking and gambling under control when Tricia did then maybe John wouldn’t have cheated on me.”

 

Reaching for Lucy’s hand, Ellie’s a little miffed when Patricia beats her to it. “The point is you’ve conquered it now,” Patricia reassures, patting Lucy’s hand.

 

“I distinctly recall laughing when you told me you were going into rehab. Back then I thought it was something only American celebrities did. When you returned from eight weeks in rehab just in time for Olly’s eighth birthday party, I remember most of us adults sitting around getting pissed. That must have been torture for you? I never did ask you, but is that why you moved away?”

 

“Partly,” Patricia says gently. “It’s true that I struggled to be around heavy drinkers, but the main reason we left was cos Philip got a new job in London. Luckily for me my husband, unlike us, wasn’t much of a drinker so after I got out of rehab he never touched a drop, determined to support me. He was a great husband.”

 

Ellie, feeling like she’s intruding on some private moment, gets to her feet. “Well I’d better get back to it. Thanks for the tea, Luce.”

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

By some unspoken agreement they decide to spend the day away from the Ackerman house.

 

This morning Daisy was close to telling her dad about the messages, but when he started yelling at her, falsely accusing her of smoking pot, she lost her nerve. She contemplates calling her mum, and asking her opinion, but like Chloe with her parents, she worries Mum will insist she return to South Mercier, and despite what’s happening at the house she’s enjoying living in Broachurch. She considers Chloe and Kirsty to be two of the best friends she’s ever had and she loves spending time with Dad and Ellie, as well as her siblings, and Lizzie. Chloe’s parents are great, and Lucy is lovely, and even though he can be an arsehole, she’s even growing fond of Olly. He’s like the annoying older brother she never had.

 

Kirsty is on edge all day, even going as far as to snap at Chloe a couple of times. The only time she seems like her usual self is around the kids.

 

As soon as Maxine and Lizzie have been dropped off, they bundle the kids into their buggies and spend the morning walking the pier, and playing in the park, before heading to the coffee shop for lunch. Following lunch they pick Fred up from Nursery, and head to the Library. Just after three o’clock, armed with a sausage roll and cream donut from the bakery, they head to Dad’s to apologise to Tom. Apparently food is the way to his forgiveness, because he’s happy to see them, dismissing their attempts at grovelling with a wave of his hand.

 

To Daisy and Chloe’s relief Kirsty perks up as the day progresses, and even laughs at the way Tom haphazardly chops the onion when he assists her to prepare dinner. Unfortunately her good mood doesn’t last long. They’re all sitting around the kitchen table enjoying delicious Spaghetti Bolognese when Tom asks if they’ve solved the mystery of the block messages yet. It’s as if the air in the room has suddenly shifted causing everyone over the age of sixteen to suddenly become uncomfortable.

 

Chloe pounces on Tom’s question. “Why’re asking,” she asks suspiciously. “Cos it’s you, innit? You’re somehow sneaking in?”

 

Before Tom can respond, Kirsty turns furious eyes on Chloe. “It’s not him,” she says. Then before Daisy can protest Kirsty’s blurting out the entire story to Tom concluding with the visit from Steve Connolly the previous evening.

 

Listening intently, Tom whistles between his teeth. “Do you really think there was a ghost? Who do you think it was? Do you know if the Ackerman’s had any relatives who might’ve died in that room?” The way he’s firing questions you can definitely tell he’s the son of a detective.

 

“As far as we know Connolly is full of bollocks.”

 

“Chloe!” Kirsty says, looking pointedly at Fred and Lizzie. Fred in particular looks like he’s filing the word away for future reference.

 

“Oh would you relax.” Chloe bangs her hand on the table. “Ellie swears like a sailor and ‘bollocks’ isn’t even swearing.”

 

“I agree,” Daisy grins. “Not swearing.”

 

Twirling spaghetti around his fork, Tom’s expression turns thoughtful. “Didn’t Alec once punch Steve Connolly outside your house, Chloe? I’m pretty sure I remember reading it on Olly’s Twitter feed.”

 

“Don’t think Hardy actually struck him, just shouted a lot.”

 

“Oh.” Tom looks a bit disappointed. “Wow, it’s all pretty exciting, innit? A real mystery. What are you gonna do next?”

 

“You can have it,” Kirsty grumbles, stabbing her fork at her plate. “There’s nothing exciting about it when you’re living it.”

 

Looking apologetic, Tom quickly backtracks. “Sorry, Kirsty. I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“I know you didn’t mean it, Tom,” Kirsty reassures, giving him a sweet smile.

 

Daisy watches Tom turn the same colour as the meat sauce they’re eating.

 

They’re just finished dinner when Ellie arrives home. “Oh hullo,” she says. “You’re all here?”

 

For some inexplicable reason, probably as a result of the stress she’s under, Ellie’s comment gets Daisy’s back up. “We wanted a change of scenery, okay,” she snaps. “We’re gonna be looking after the kids here once our house-sittings up, don’t forget?”

 

In the process of clearing the table, Tom averts his eyes, almost dropping the salt and pepper shakers he’s holding. Out of the corner of her eye, Daisy observes Chloe and Kirsty’s rigid postures as they deliberately keep their backs to her as they continue loading the dishwasher.

 

“What are you snapping at me for?” Ellie’s tone is calm, with a hint of hurt. “Of course it’s all right for you to be here. This is your house too. I’ve always said that.”

 

Mortified over the way she’s spoken to her step mum, Daisy buries her face in her hands, muttering an apology under her breath. Looking at Ellie’s kind, easy-going face she opens her mouth to blurt out the entire story surrounding the messages when she’s interrupted by the arrival of Beth to collect Lizzie.

 

Since the three of them walked over, Beth offers to drive them back. On her way out Daisy gives Ellie a quick hug. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch,” she sniffs, almost bursting into tears when Ellie merely pats her back understandably.

 

Just before seven Beth drops them back at the Ackerman’s with a cheery wave, seemingly oblivious to the way all three of their faces drop as they dejectedly climb out of the car.

 

As they pick their way to the front door, wind whips at their clothes, twigs and leaves skittering across the driveway. It’s a far cry from this morning’s warm winter sun caressing their cheeks as they strolled the pier.

 

Kirsty insists on sleeping on the sofa for the second night in a row.

 

Determined to restore their good mood from earlier in the day, Daisy suggests they all sleep in the sitting room, have a DVD night, followed by a sleepover.”

 

“Yeah.” Chloe’s eyes light up. “C’mon Kirst, It’ll be fun?”

 

But Kirsty shakes her head. “No thanks. I know I’ve been a real downer today but I just want to go to sleep, have an early night.”

 

“Well then how ‘bout you take my room, and I’ll sleep down here?” Daisy offers. “That sofa must be uncomfortable?”

 

Again Kirsty shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. I’m fine.” She grabs the toy box, “I’m not having this in here though.” Carting it into the kitchen she dumps it in the corner.

 

* * *

 

 ELLIE

 

“What’s all this, then?” Alec looks a little perplexed as he walks into the kitchen just before eight o’clock, to find her sliding two plates of Spaghetti Bolognese into the oven. She’s not surprised he’s confused since dinner for them lately has either consisted of a quick takeaway eaten at the station, or a frozen ready-made meal hastily heated in the microwave when they eventually arrive home.

 

This is the first evening since she’s returned to work that they’ve both been home together at a decent hour, and she intends to make the most of it. Fred and Maxine are bathed and tucked up in bed, Tom is watching telly in the sitting room, and she’s even found time to shower and change, as well as do her hair and makeup. The table in the dining room is set for two, because it’s difficult to enjoy a romantic dinner eating in the kitchen, when Tom can burst into the room at any given moment for a drink or a snack.

 

She hands him a glass of red wine. “The girls were here earlier. Kirsty, with a bit of help from Tom, even made us dinner.”

 

He kisses her on the cheek, his facial hair tickling her skin, “Smells good.”

 

“Me or the food?”

 

He chuckles, a beautiful throaty sound she doesn’t hear nearly often enough. “Both,” he grounds out. Placing his wine on the counter, he slowly dips his head his mouth closing over hers.

 

Lightly at first, his lips brush hers, lingering, tasting, before increasing the pressure. Snaking his arms around her he settles them around her waist, moulding her body to his and pressing her back into the kitchen cupboards. Whimpering, she arches into him, opening her mouth wider to accept his probing tongue. She can feel his arousal, her own need evident in her straining nipples throbbing for release. Slipping his hand beneath her shirt he roams her back before gliding up her side dangerously close to her breast. “Um...” she moans, tearing her mouth from his, her heart, as well as other places, aching with unfulfilled desire. “Tom’s downstairs.”

 

Letting out a long, heavy sigh, his hand stills. Eyes still hazy with passion, he straightens her shirt, stepping back. “Erm, do I have time for a shower?”

 

She swats him on the bottom with the oven glove, “If you’re quick.”

 

As she carries the salad into the dining room she hears him stop by the sitting room to say hello to Tom. _He’s such a good Dad,_ she thinks. She bets he’ll check in on Fred and Maxine on his way to the shower. Who would’ve predicted that the irritating, job-stealing knob she met on the beach that day would turn out to be so caring and considerate. And so sexy to boot, she thinks, remembering the smouldering hot snog they’ve just shared.

 

She’s so distracted by her thoughts she jumps sky high when a crash sounds from the direction of the back garden. Turning on the outside light she peers through the glass of the sliding door off the dining room, relieved to discover that it’s just one of the outdoor chairs blown over by the strong weather. _It’s going to be a nasty night,_ she thinks, heading back to the kitchen.

 

“How did it go today, with Lucy and Patricia?” Alec asks once they sit down to dinner. He’s been out of the station all afternoon so she hasn’t had a chance to update him.

 

Sprinkling parmesan cheese on her pasta, she relays the conversation, including the fact that both women have been in rehab for substance abuse.

 

Taking a sip of wine, he studies her closely. “You sound pissed off, darling. Is there more to it?”

 

He knows her too well. “You’ll think I’m silly. It’s just Lucy and I have always been close despite our differences and when I was talking to them today they’ve been through this life altering experience that I don’t share.”

 

He eyes her incredulously. “Let me get this straight. You’re unhappy cos you’re not a recovering alcoholic?”

 

“Course not. I just can’t help feeling a little jealous of their friendship that’s all,” she says. “Didn’t say it was rational.”

 

“Lucy will always be your sister, no matter who else comes into her life. That’ll never change.”

 

“Guess I’m feeling like I’m spreading myself too thin,” she admits.

 

“I know, me too,” he says, scratching at his beard. “I’m sure Daisy’s hiding something. She didn’t seem like her usual self this morning.”

 

Ellie hesitates. “She was a bit out of sorts tonight as well.”

 

His head snaps to attention, his voice rising. “Out of sorts, how?”

 

Reaching for her own wine, she shakes her head. “Nothing I can put my finger on.” She gives him a small smile. “Teenagers are difficult to read at the best of times. At least Tom seems happier tonight. All that sulking was doing my head in. Did I tell you that he asked me to stop calling him sweetheart, the other day? Daisy’s older and she still lets you call her darling?”

 

“Don’t think she so much lets me rather I don’t give her a choice. I’ll probably still be calling Fred, wee Fred, when he’s forty.”

 

“Bloody hell. You’re be eighty then? Can’t even imagine how grumpy and set in your ways you’ll be? You’re bad enough now.”

 

“Eighty? You need to sign up for Maths lessons with young Kirsty. I’ll be seventy seven.”

 

They stare each other down before bursting into laughter.

 

“That’s a big difference, that is,” Ellie laughs.

 

Alec merely arches a dark brow.

 

Later, after they’ve cleared the dishes away, they return to the table, conversing quietly while they finish the bottle of wine. It soon becomes clear to Ellie that the combination of stress of the unsolved murder and lack of sleep has caused the alcohol to go straight to Alec’s head. She probably should of stopped him when he poured himself a third glass, even if she does find him adorable when he’s pissed. It’s one of the few times he ever looks truly relaxed. Because she’s breastfeeding she’s still nursing her first glass, although she’s certain she has enough breast milk stored in the freezer to tide the baby over so she probably could’ve drunk more.

 

A knock on the closed door interrupts her musings. “Is it safe to come in?” Tom says, waiting for a reply before risking entry.

 

“No, go away,” Alec gripes, at the same time Ellie answers ‘yes’.

 

Entering the room, Tom gives his stepfather a sideways glance. “Are you drunk?”

 

“Ack, are you being cheeky?” Alec says, his voice getting louder, his Scottish brogue at its most prevalent. His eyes are teasing though as he repeats his question to Ellie. “Is he being cheeky?”

 

Ellie’s lips twitch with amusement. “Probably, but he speaks the truth. You’re off your face.” Tom snorts with laughter at that. “Are you heading to bed?” she asks her son. She almost adds a ‘sweetheart’ on the end catching herself just in time.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“I expect we’ll be right behind you, because someone’s almost nodding off at the table.”

 

Supporting his chin on his elbow, Alec opens his eyes with a start. ”Am not,” he mutters.

 

Ellie and Tom exchange a smile.

 

“Okay you great big lump,” Ellie says once Tom’s gone. “Definitely time for bed for you I think. Sleep it off, yeah? You have work tomorrow, don’t forget?”

 

“All right,” he agrees, climbing unsteadily to his feet.

 

She walks beside him up the stairs just in case he decides to do something stupid like lose his balance. But he manages to make it to the top with no incident, albeit slowly.

 

“Come on,” she instructs, pulling back the covers on his side of the bed. “In you get.”

 

He obeys, allowing her to tuck the covers securely around him. There’s something satisfying about putting her husband to bed. She loves this vulnerable side to his personality.

 

“Ellie,” he slurs, his lips slowly curving into a sensuous smile. “You’re so beautiful.”

 

She brushes the compliment off with a snort and a wave of her hand, but his words send a shiver of delight coursing down her spine.

 

She goes to move away when he grasps her arm pulling her towards him. His hand is warm, and suddenly so is she. “Da, da, da, da, da,” he growls. “You’re not going anywhere. C’mere.”

 

“I don’t think so,” she says firmly, extricating herself. “The only activity you’re going to be participating in tonight is sleep. Bet you’ll be out to it in the time it takes me to remove my makeup.”

 

Just as she predicted when she walks back into the bedroom ten minutes later he’s fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

Daisy’s watching YouTube on her smartphone when a sound from the doorway catches her attention. Looking up she finds a pyjama clad Chloe standing in her doorway, hand poised about to knock.

 

“You all right?”

 

Shuffling into the room, Chloe sinks down on the bed next to Daisy, tucking her feet up under her. “Um, I had a thought about who’s behind the messages but I didn’t want to say anything in front of Kirsty since she’s already so jittery.”

 

“Okay,” Daisy says slowly, placing her phone on her bedside table.

 

Chloe takes a deep breath. “I think it might be Joe.”

 

“Joe?”

 

“Joe Miller,” Chloe says impatiently. “The man who killed Danny. Ellie’s first husband.”

 

“I knew who you meant,” Daisy says gently. “But he’s in the nick?”

 

“Yes, but what if it’s one of his relatives who’s doing it? He has an uncle and a cousin, don’t forget. They both knew Joe had been abusing his cousin, and kept quiet, so not exactly upstanding citizens. The uncle didn’t even believe Joe was a paedophile. Maybe one of them is trying to get revenge? Get back at our parents through us?”

 

“I don’t know...”

 

Chloe leans closer. “Think about it, it makes sense.”

 

“But leaving messages using toy blocks? Odd way of getting revenge, don’t you think?”

 

“Well, they’re bonkers, aren’t they?”

 

Wind whistles past the window, shaking the frame, startling them both.

 

“Maybe you’re right.” Daisy wraps the duvet tighter around herself. “I do know one thing, it’s time to tell my dad what’s going on. This is getting too serious for us to handle on our own. If there’s even a chance it has anything to do with Joe, Dad needs to know. I’ll talk to him when he drops Max off tomorrow. Fuck, he’s going to go spare when he finds out I’ve been lying to him?”

 

This time Chloe doesn’t protest.

 


	6. Chapter 6

DAISY

 

They’re lying on the beach in their bikinis, the hot sun beating down, warming their bare skin.

 

“This is the life, eh?” says Chloe, reaching for her suntan lotion.

 

“We should do this every day,” Kirsty agrees.

 

A fit guy jogs past. “Ooh, look at him,” Chloe wolf whistles. “Yum.”

 

Closing her eyes, Daisy laughs at her friend’s antics. She’s never felt happier.

 

Kirsty wipes her sweaty brow. “Gosh, it’s hot. Who’s up for a 99?” she asks, jumping up.

 

“Me,” Chloe says, liberally applying suntan lotion to her arms, which are already starting to redden.

 

For some inexplicable reason a sense of foreboding washes over Daisy. “Kirsty, wait,” she calls. Her friend stops, waves; then turns away running down the beach, out of sight, her footprints clearly visible in the loose sand.

 

As if from out of nowhere, a black cloud descends on them, blocking the sun.

 

Frowning at the sky, Chloe says: “Looks like rain.”

 

Suddenly Fred and Lizzie are there building a sand castle. Staring at them, Daisy watches as Fred upends a bucket full of compacted sand, and then taps the bottom of the bucket with his spade.

 

_Bang, bang, bang._

 

Not satisfied, he whacks the bucket harder.

 

Covering her ears against the noise, Daisy pleads: “Stop it, Fred!”

 

He ignores her.

 

_Bang, bang, bang._

 

“Fred, please – “

 

Sitting bolt upright in bed, a hand flies to Daisy’s chest.

 

Whew, just a dream. Flopping back down against the pillows, she breathes slowly in and out.

 

_Bang, bang, bang._

 

Her heart lurches. What is that? Letting out a whimper, she dives under the duvet like a child hiding from a monster.

 

Berating herself for acting like a baby, she emerges a moment later, her darting eyes coming to rest on the clock. She lets out a shriek when she sees the time. It’s past seven thirty! The sound she’s hearing is someone knocking on the door.

 

“Shit!” she says, throwing back the covers.

 

Fumbling with the lock on the window, she pushes it open, and pokes her head out, shivering as a blast of frigid air hits her squarely in the face. She glances down. Sure enough, her father is standing on the doorstep, Maxine in his arms. He looks up when he hears the window opening. He doesn’t look happy. She knows she’s in deep shit.

 

“Be right down, Dad,” she tells him. Hastily closing the window she throws on her Forever 21 polka dot robe with matching slippers and hurries out onto the landing.

 

Before heading downstairs she knocks on Chloe’s and Kirsty’s doors. “Get up! We slept in. Dad’s here with Max.”

 

She hears a muffled “What?” from Chloe as she races down the stairs.

 

Unlocking the front door, she jerks it open. “I’m so sorry, Dad. We overslept.”

 

Shooting her an annoyed look, he strides into the house. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been knocking for? It’s bloody freezing out there for a baby.”

 

“Here, let me take Max so you can get going.” Reaching for her sister she suddenly stops, remembering that she intended to broach the topic of the messages and potential night time intruder with him. “Actually, would you mind hanging around for a bit? There’s something I really need to discuss with you?”

 

“Now?” Letting out a huge sigh, he runs a hand through his already dishevelled hair. “Can it wait? I was halfway here when I realised I’d left my mobile behind, so now I have to drive all the way home to get it which I could have done in the amount of time I’ve spent waiting for you to answer your bloody door.”

 

Crossing her arms across her chest she stands her ground. “No it can’t. It’s important.”

 

Still looking put out, he makes a show of glancing at his watch. She knows she’s making him late and that she’s partly responsible. Is fully aware that he’s in the middle of a murder investigation, but she doesn’t know what to do and she needs his help.

 

“All right,” he finally agrees.

 

“Make yourself a tea, yeah, while I get dressed? You look like you could use one.”

 

“Hurry up, will you,” he snaps, heading for the kitchen with Maxine in his arms.

 

Hauling herself back upstairs she quickly exchanges her pyjamas for clothes. She’s pulling on a pair of heavy woollen socks when a bleary-eyed Chloe, wearing jeans paired with a cream jersey, steps into the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. “Is he mad?”

 

“Er...” Daisy twists her hair up into a ponytail, securing it with a black hair tie. “I think so... but it’s hard to tell cos pissed off is pretty much his regular expression.”

 

Chloe laughs then quickly sobers. “Oh shitballs, did you mention Kirsty’s sleeping on the sofa? What if he goes into the front room? She might be getting dressed or something.”

 

Daisy’s feels her eyes bulging. In all the commotion she’d forgotten that Kirsty’s sleeping downstairs. “Oh crap. That would be bad. Kirsty would be so humiliated and she’s already annoyed with us. I’d better get back down there.”

 

“Kirsty might not mind,” Chloe says a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

Screwing up her face, Daisy looks at her friend with disgust. First Chloe thinks Olly’s fit, and now her own father? “Piss off, that’s my dad you’re talking about. Have you seen him?”

 

Not waiting for a reply she heads for the stairs calling out a warning on her way down. “Dad, don’t go into the sitting room, okay?” Reaching the hall she’s relieved to discover the door to the sitting room’s still firmly closed, but there’s another entrance leading from the kitchen which is the one, if any, her dad is more likely to use.

 

Entering the kitchen, she’s dismayed to find him already standing in the sitting room doorway, back to her. Spotting her, Maxine lets out a gurgle from her highchair. Crossing the lino, Daisy stumbles as her slipper connects with a small hard object. Looking down she’s dismayed to discover that it’s one of Fred’s blocks. That’s not how they left things! Her eyes automatically flit to the corner to where Kirsty had thrown the box the night before. It’s not there! Looking around frantically she finally spots it near her father’s feet. Heart pounding she takes another step towards him. “There’s something I have to tell –“

 

It suddenly registers that he’s standing stock still, posture rigid, staring into the semi-darkened room. She frowns. What on earth is he doing? “Dad! Give Kirsty some privacy, will you?”

 

He doesn’t move, doesn’t answer, causing her to wonder if he’s even heard her. As she watches he moves backwards and closes the door. She’s about to speak again when he slowly turns to face her. The words freeze in her throat as she takes in his stark white face and horrified expression.

 

Automatically reaching for him, she places what she hopes is a comforting hand on his arm, noticing how badly it’s trembling. “What is it?”

 

He opens his mouth, closes it, his next words sending a shockwave through her entire body. “Erm... it’s Kirsty. She’s been... she’s hurt.”

 

“What?” She makes to go past him but he steps directly in front of her, blocking the way. “Don’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.

 

“We need to call an ambulance...” she cries.

 

If possible, he pales even further, and it suddenly becomes clear to her that he’s holding something back, something much worse and that he’s desperately trying to protect her from the awful reality.

 

It takes five seconds for her brain to catch up with her thoughts. And when it does she almost collapses with grief. A hand flies to her mouth. “Oh, no, no, no. It’s too late, isn’t it?”

 

Dark eyes probing hers, he slowly nods, “I’m sorry.”

 

All she can do is stand there, shaking her head repeatedly. It can’t be true.

 

Snapping into action her father strides across the room. At the highchair he unbuckles the baby hauling her into his arms so fast that she lets out a squawk of protest. Grasping Daisy by the elbow he practically drags her out of the room. She welcomes the support because if he wasn’t holding her up she’s certain her legs would buckle. All she wants to do is curl up in a little ball, and pretend none of this is happening.

 

“Where’s Chloe?” he’s demanding to know.

 

She feels her mouth wobble, tears filling her eyes over the knowledge that Chloe’s moments away from feeling as shattered as she does. “She’s upstairs.”

 

“Chloe, get down here, now,” her dad yells from the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Okay, okay.” Daisy hears Chloe grumble. Seconds later she appears on the landing. “Look, I’m sorry we slept in,” she apologises as she descends the stairs. “But it could happen to any – “ Breaking off she wavers uncertainly on the bottom step. Daisy can pinpoint the exact moment it registers that something is amiss. It’s heartbreaking to witness the stricken spreading across her face. “What’s wrong?”

 

Instead of replying, her dad fishes his keys out of his pocket, and hands them to Daisy, thrusting Maxine at her. “I want you to go outside and wait for me in my car. Lock the doors, and do not come back inside under any circumstances, understand?”

 

“Dad – “

 

Ignoring her, he proceeds to roughly pat the pockets of his coat. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Where’s the telephone?”

 

“Kitchen,” she says, dimly recalling him saying that he left his Blackberry at home. “Side table, near the back door.”

 

“Outside,” he barks, then more gently. “Go.” Turning away he strides back towards the kitchen.

 

Chloe’s gaping after him. As soon as he’s gone she whirls on Daisy. “Would you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

 

She can barely get the words out. “Da... dad says Kirsty’s dead!” she sobs, crossing the short distance to hug Chloe.

 

They cling to each other. “What? No, she’s not!” Chloe moans, her words muffled in Daisy’s shoulder. “What happened?”

 

She shakes her head, “I don’t know.”

 

“An accident? Did she trip and fall?”

 

“I don’t know, all right.”

 

At the car she settles Maxine into her car seat, climbing into the backseat with her. As instructed they lock the doors.

 

From the front seat, Chloe spins around, her expression distraught, “Is this our fault?”

 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, tears streaming down her face, all Daisy can do is shake her head, unable to answer.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

ELLIE

 

She wonders how Alec is feeling?

 

He hadn’t looked good when he’d rolled out of bed, moaning and complaining loudly, sniping at her for allowing him to drink too much the night before, as if he had no control over his own actions. She’d taken it all in her stride, watching with amusement as he’d crashed around the kitchen banging cupboards open, slamming bowls and spoons down on the table. She’d shared a look with Tom, who’d been hiding his own smile behind the cornflakes box.

 

Upon discovering the highchair wasn’t there, Alec had completely lost it, although he probably would have reacted that way on a normal morning anyway, hated any changes disrupting his regular routine. The girls had walked over the day before so hadn’t brought it with them like they normally would have. “How am I supposed to feed her?” he’d yelled, waving the jar of apples near Ellie’s face.

 

“On your lap,” she’d told him. She’d reached for the baby, “Here, give her to me.”

 

Giving her an angry look he’d refused to hand Maxine over, spooning fruit into the baby’s mouth at a rapid rate, while she sat happily on his lap, oblivious to his bad mood. By some miracle he hadn’t gotten any apple on his suit otherwise she’d have never heard the end of it.

 

“What am I supposed to do about car seats?” he’d griped next.

 

“Christ!” she’d said. “Get the one’s out of my car.” They’d purposely bought two sets for situations like this, and because it was such a pain to keep switching them over all the time. She’d run a hand through her hair. “Look, I’ll drop the kids off, yeah?”

 

But when she’d walked back into the kitchen after putting on a load of washing the grumpy knob had already left with Fred and Maxine, without even saying goodbye.

 

She’s standing in the coffee shop waiting for her order when she hears someone calling her name.

 

“Good morning, DS Hardy,” her nephew beams, stopping in front of her.

 

“No comment,” she automatically replies.

 

“Haven’t asked you anything yet.”

 

“I can tell by your smarmy smile that you’re about to. I have nothing to say to you about the Simon Albury case. And you’d better not be getting any information from Lucy. Also, stay away from Daisy, Chloe, and Kirsty, or else! Your mum said you were hanging around them yesterday, like a bad smell.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “Did Mum really say I smell bad?”

 

She smacks him on the arm. “Don’t be facetious, Oliver.”

 

Olly looks offended. “I can’t even talk to them?”

 

“Didn’t realise you were familiar with the concept of talking to a girl, if your track records anything to go by?”

 

“Ooh, ouch, Auntie Ellie,” he says, putting a hand to his chest as if wounded by her words. She knows better!

 

Changing the subject, and also because she’s curious, she says: “Patricia’s a great support to Lucy, isn’t she?”

 

Olly sobers. “It’s good for Mum, having someone who knows exactly what she’s gone through, and the fact that Patricia’s been sober for so long goes a long way to convincing Mum that she can beat it as well.”

 

_If only Olly treated women with the same consideration he shows Lucy,_ Ellie thinks. _Instead of settling for an endless string of one night stands. Maybe he just hasn’t met the right girl yet and will settle down when he does._

 

“Was in London over the weekend,” Olly says. “Went out for a pint with Patricia’s son, Liam. He’s so proud of his mum, just like I am of mine. I talked to him quite a bit last year when Mum was in rehab. He really helped me out.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in contact with Liam?”

 

“He’s a good friend. Just like Patricia is to Mum.”

 

_Don’t bloody remind me,_ Ellie thinks.

 

The barista shouts out her order. “Well I’d better crack on,” she says. “Don’t want to be late.”

 

Olly winks. “Will DI Hardy punish you?”

 

“Bloody hell, you and your mother are both as bad as each other. All you even think about is sex.” She wags a finger from side to side at his face. “Don’t talk like that around Alec. He won’t like it.”

 

“Really?” Olly rubs his hands together, his expression gleeful “Will have to remember that. I’m always looking for new ways to torture him.”

 

_And she’s the idiot who’s just given him one,_ Ellie fumes, stomping back to the station. _Bloody Oliver! Just when she starts to think he has some redeeming qualities he disappoints her._

 

Walking onto the CID floor she’s surprised to discover Alec has yet to arrive. She would have thought he would be here by now? He had left home at least twenty minutes before her, and even though he had to drop the kids off, she’s stopped off for coffee not to mention being waylaid by Ollie. She’s just deciding whether or not to ring him when DS Brooks rushes over to her his face ashen.

 

“Ellie, I just received a message from the desk sergeant. Report of a body, residential house. Two PC’s have been dispatched to the scene.”

 

_Oh my god,_ she thinks _. Another one._ Her mind is racing. She wonders how far away Alec is.

 

“Um... DI Hardy isn’t here yet. What info do we have?”

 

He reads from the slip of paper. “Call came in from a Kirsty Nicholls.”

 

His words are the equivalent of a punch to the gut. “What? She’s one of the girls looking after my kids.” 

 

A million thoughts race through her head. _He said body... as in dead. Tom’s at school, Fred’s at Nursery. Is it Maxine, she doesn’t know how she’d survive that. Not her little baby. Daisy, she couldn’t bear that either. Chloe or Lizzie, surely God wouldn’t be cruel enough to take another child from Beth and Mark? Is it Alec? Did he have a heart attack while dropping Maxine off? Please, please, no..._

 

“Who... whose body is it?” she whispers even though she can’t stand to know the answer.

 

The DS regards her sympathetically. “I’m sorry, that’s all the desk sergeant wrote down apart from the address.”

 

Snatching the paper she’s across the room in a flash, frantically scrolling through her phone for Alec’s number. Pressing the screen she waits desperately for him to answer. _Please pick up,_ she prayers, as she stabs the button for the lift with her free hand, tapping her foot on the ground. Her agitation increases ten fold as it rings eight times before going to voicemail.

 

“Answer your bloody phone,” she says urgently, choking out the words.” Call me... please.” _He would answer wouldn’t he? Unless he’s..._ There’s no way she’s finishing that thought.

 

She drives to the address much faster than she should. It’s the longest ten minutes of her life.

 

Reaching the scene, she’s out of the car like a shot, sprinting towards the cordoned-off area. The PC standing point at the crime scene tape registers surprise as she barrels towards him, almost ripping the tape down in her haste to get past.

 

“Oi,” he yells after her, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down.

 

Her eyes dart around desperately, taking in the uniformed PC’s, the forensics van, Dr Bell’s car, SOCO officers suiting up, until they finally come to rest on Alec’s car. _Oh god, he is here._

 

“Ellie!” Whirling around, she spots Daisy running towards her. Physically she appears uninjured but her cheeks are stained with tears which does nothing to calm Ellie. Behind her Beth holds Maxine while Chloe has Lizzie in her arms. Ellie’s relief is palpable to discover that they’re safe, but where is Alec?

 

Reaching her, Daisy throws her arms around her sobbing. “Ellie, oh Ellie, it’s so awful,” she moans.

 

Pulling back, Ellie grabs her by the shoulders looking her straight in the eyes. “Quick, tell me,” she squeaks out. “Is it your dad? Is he... okay?”

 

The teenager stares at her, so thrown by the question she stops crying. “Dad, Dad’s fine. He’s inside. It’s Kirsty. Kirsty’s dead.”

 

“Kirsty! But the message said...” She shakes her head, anger rising to the surface. Someone at the station has fucked up royally. It wasn’t Kirsty who phoned, Kirsty’s the victim. Her anger is a welcome relief because it effectively obliterates the multitude of other emotions swirling through her head, enabling her to focus on the task at hand. She’ll deal with the rest later. She pulls Daisy back into a hug, gently rocking the young girl. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

 

Clinging to her, Daisy whispers, “I want to speak to my mum. Could you get my phone for me? It’s in the front bedroom next to the bed.”

 

“I’m sorry. I can’t take anything from the house at the minute.” She fumbles in her jacket pocket for her own mobile, quickly locating Tess’ number in her contacts list. “Here use mine.”

 

Wiping at her eyes, Daisy accepts the phone, shooting her a grateful look. As Ellie watches she moves away, clearly wanting privacy while she speaks to her mother.

 

Beth approaches. In her arms Maxine gives a squeal of delight upon spotting Ellie. “Ellie, is there anything you can tell us?” Beth says.

 

Giving the baby a soft smile, Ellie strokes her hand over her daughters cheek. “I won’t know anything until I get inside. Have you seen Alec?”

 

Beth’s shakes her head. “Not since I arrived. Daisy said he was the one who found Kirsty.”

 

Her heart goes out to him, recalling how much it affected him when he found poor Pippa Gillespie’s body five years ago. And now it’s another girl, but this time he knows her as a close friend of one of his daughter’s, a babysitter of his other one. She’s desperate to get inside to see him but she needs to deal with Beth and the kids first.

 

Her eyes fall to Daisy, phone to her ear, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. Off to the side, Chloe stares numbly into space, while trying to hold on to a struggling toddler. Maxine starts to grizzle, holding out her little arms for her mother. Ellie knows what she has to do; is prepared to deal with the fallout if there is any. “Would you mind taking everyone back to your house? This is no place for them.”

 

“I know. I wanted to do that in the first place but the officers wouldn’t let the girls leave. I asked to speak to Hardy, but was unceremoniously told that he was busy.”

 

“I’m sorry about that. In this situation all witnesses are supposed to be escorted back to the station to wait to be interviewed, but that could be hours yet, and I don’t want you having to stand around the station, with traumatised teenagers, and young children. I’ll clear it with the officers and send a PC along with you.”

 

Nodding, Beth motions for Chloe to join them. When she does Beth slides her free arm around her daughter’s waist pulling her close to her side.

 

Ellie watches Chloe lean into Beth. “How’re you holding up, honey?” she asks.

 

Looking beyond her, Chloe shrugs. “Dunno.”

 

Finished with her phone call, a subdued looking Daisy walks back over. Handing Ellie her phone she says: “Mum’s on her way.”

 

“Good. I want you to go with Beth.”

 

Relief crosses Daisy’s face. She nods. “I’ll have to ring Mum back? Tell her where I’m gonna be?”

 

Stepping over, Ellie puts her arm around the young girl’s shoulders. “Beth’ll lend you her mobile and you can phone from the car, okay?”

 

“Can I see Dad before I go?” She looks up at Ellie hopefully. “I want to check that he’s all right. He saw Kirsty after...” Unable to complete the sentence she looks down at the ground.

 

Her heart breaking, Ellie shakes her head. “Not right now, sweetheart.”

 

Daisy sniffs. “Promise me you’ll look after him?”

 

Ellie swallows hard. “I promise.”

 

After retrieving Maxine’s car seat from Alec’s car, Ellie pulls aside a female PC, who she’s worked with extensively, instructing her to go with them. She reminds Beth that Fred’s at Nursery until half twelve, and that Tom’s at school. Beth assures her that she’ll take care of everything kid-wise and for her not to worry. Easier said than done! At the car, Ellie gives both Daisy and Maxine a hug, watching sadly after them as they drive away, torn between her duty as a police officer sworn to protect its citizens, and her overwhelming need as a mother to comfort her children.

 

At the front entrance she pulls on gloves, before reaching for the footwear protectors, with the distinctive ‘police’ written all over the bottom, so as to distinguish their prints from anyone else’s. Nodding to the uniformed PC next to the front step, Ellie enters the house.

 

As soon as she steps into the hall she hears the distinctive sound of Alec’s Scottish accent, and like a moth drawn to a flame, she makes her way towards it.

 

Her breath catches in her throat to see him standing in the kitchen, alive and well, firing instructions at SOCO Brian Young. Of its own accord, her hand reaches for him, but she stops it just in time. She aches to comfort him, to touch him, to put her arms around him and hold him close. But she can’t because right now they’re not Alec and Ellie, married couple; they’re DI Hardy, and DS Hardy, detectives.

 

“Get it done,” Alec barks, with a dismissal wave of his hand, turning his back on Brian

 

Looking annoyed, Brian crosses the kitchen. “Ellie,” he nods with a tight smile, as he walks by her. Alerting Alec to her presence, he spins to face her.

 

To her shame, her throat tightens, hot tears pooling in her eyes, and for a dreadful moment she’s certain she’s going to start wailing hysterically and not be able to stop. He opens his mouth and she prepares herself for the lecture she’s certain she’s about to receive, to keep it together, tamp it down, be professional, they’re working a case, especially given the obvious bollocking he’s just given poor Brian, but when he does speak his tone is quiet, gentle. “I know it’s tough,” he says. “We knew Kirsty. But we owe it to her to do the best job possible, find out who did this to her, and prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law.”

 

“I don’t even know what happened. Was it suspicious?”

 

Gaping at her, his voice rises, anger suffusing his face. “Course it was. I told the call hander that when I phoned. There were signs of a struggle. She was suffocated with a pillow; the pathologist has just confirmed it. You don’t get more suspicious than that!”

 

She winces, not over the harsh way he breaks the awful news to her, she’s used to his direct ‘pull no punches’ approach, but over the horrifying fate Kirsty suffered. In that moment she decides not to mention the incorrect information she received leading her to wrongly conclude that it was Kirsty who’d placed the call. She’ll tell him later, Alec is correct; right now Kirsty deserves their full focus and attention. They can’t afford to get distracted. Unwittingly her eyes fall on the highchair and she almost breaks down, sickened to imagine her baby being in a house where a young girls been murdered. “Beth’s taking Daisy and Maxine to her place,” she tells him. “We’re talk to her and Chloe there later.”

 

She expects him to argue, inform her that it’s not correct protocol, but again he surprises her. “Are they all right?”

 

“About as well as can be expected given the circumstances. Tess is on her way to be with Daisy.”

 

With his thumb he rubs the underside of his jaw, various emotions flitting across his face. She can tell it’s killing him not being able to be the one who’s there for Daisy. “Shit,” he groans. “Tess is going to be furious that I didn’t call her right away. I had every intention of going back outside, but by the time I phoned 999 and then spoke to Jenkinson, officers were already pulling up. Then Dr Bell arrived, followed by forensics, and I sent a PC to our house to retrieve my mobile, which I left on my blimin’ bedside table. Was the only thing on my mind when I arrived at Daisy’s, and I was in such a hurry to go back and get it that I almost didn’t go inside, but Daisy insisted she needed to speak to me...” The more he talks, the faster he’s speaking. Even as used to his accent as Ellie is she’s struggling to keep up with the tirade of information flying from his lips. “In the kitchen there were bloody toys all over the floor. I was so angry over what lazy slobs the girls are, wondering if we’d made the wrong choice leaving our kids with them. I accidentally kicked one of the blocks in the direction of the sitting room. Bent down to pick it up... saw...” He shakes his head. “When I think that if I didn’t stop, Daisy would’ve been the one to find Kirsty like that, I can’t stand it, Ellie.”

 

_That explains why he didn’t answer his phone,_ she thinks. Since they’re alone, she risks placing a hand on his arm, desperate to offer him at least some small measure of comfort. “I can’t even imagine what you are going through right now, finding Kirsty like that.” Her voice catches on a sob. “Our kids are safe. Beth will take good care of them.”

 

His eyes are soft, grateful. “Thank you.”

 

Unwittingly, she glances towards the door. “You said you found Kirsty in the sitting room?”

 

Alec jerks his head. “Yes. Just inside the door leading from the kitchen. There’s a bed made up on the sofa, covers mused up. For some reason she must’ve slept down here last night.”

 

“Probably watching telly late and fell asleep. We’ll have to check with Daisy and Chloe.” She doesn’t want to ask the next question but she has to know, both to do her job, and for her own peace of mind. “Any signs of sexual assault?”

 

She’s beyond relieved when Alec shakes his head. “We won’t know for sure until Dr Bell does a full examination, but she’s wearing pyjamas.” The look he gives her is agonising. “I cleaned up the toys, Ellie. Don’t know if the girls left them like that, or whether they got that way during the struggle? I interfered with the crime scene.”

 

She slides her hand along his arm. “You didn’t know.”

 

Brian returns to the room. Biting her lip, Ellie takes a step back. “All the doors are secure except for the front door,” he says. He shoots Alec a sardonic look. “But I’m guessing that was locked when you arrived.”

 

“It was,” Alec confirms. “I tried the handle when no one answered the door.” He quickly fills Ellie in, explaining that Daisy and Chloe slept in. She wonders whether that’s significant but she doesn’t see how.

 

 “I did find an unlocked window though. Second floor, front bedroom. It was shut but not locked. Intruder could’ve gained access that way.”

 

Alec visibly blanches. “That’s the room my daughter was sleeping in.” He runs a hand through his hair. “No, I remember now. Daisy opened the window to call out to me. She mustn’t have locked it properly because she was in a hurry to let me in,” he says, expelling a huge breath of air.

 

“Daisy will have to confirm that,” Ellie says.

 

“She will,” he insists, his tone harsh.

 

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” she checks, once Brian’s left the room again.

 

“Yes,” he grits out.

 

Later when she steps outside, a strange sensation washes over Ellie. Something’s bothering her and she can’t quite put her finger on it. Frowning she looks around, the pathologist has left, SOCO’s still traipsing around gathering forensics. A few feet away, Alec is speaking into his Blackberry (which has just been handed back to him by the PC he sent to their house) updating Superintendent Jenkinson.

 

She’s walking the perimeter wearing a distracted expression when Alec, finished with his call, catches up to her. “What are you doing?” he asks, stepping in front of her.

 

She looks up at him, with a puzzled look. “Dunno.”

 

“The Super appointed me SIO, which is no great surprise, since I already told her I was working under that assumption anyway. Erm... she gave us permission to interview Daisy and Chloe.” Only half of what he’s saying, she wanders a short distance away.

 

Trailing her, Alec continues to speak. “She wasn’t happy about it but I insisted. She finally agreed providing DS Brooks sits in on the interview. You’re not even listening?” he accuses.

 

She looks off in the distance. “Shut up a sec, I know what’s been bothering me. It’s this neighbourhood, this address – Everson Road. I recognise it.” She was so distracted when she arrived, fearing for the safety of her loved ones that she failed to notice.

 

“What’s so strange about that?” he demands to know. “You’ve lived in Broadchurch your entire life. You must know every street in town by now?”

 

“I do. But this is the street Lucy used to live in, back in the ‘90’s.”

 

“What? Which house?”

 

She indicates her hand to the left. “That way. Two doors down. You can just make out the red roof from here. And Patricia Drake lived across the road?”

 

He frowns. “Our murder victim Simon never lived here, did he?”

 

She shakes her head. “No he and his wife lived across town, just down the road from the Latimer’s in Spring Close. The Latimers didn’t live there then of course.”

 

“So you’re telling me the street Kirsty was murdered on is the same street where Lucy and Patricia lived back when they were friends with Simon?”

 

“That pretty much sums it up, yes”

 

“Why didn’t you make the connection when I told you this address?”

 

“Because you never did.”

 

“I bloody well did.”

 

“No, you didn’t. All you said was that they were house-sitting for the Ackerman’s.”

 

He runs a hand down his face letting out a series of groans. “Shit.”

 

“I meant to visit the girls,” she sighs. “Things just got so hectic with the case. Oh god, you don’t think we could’ve prevented Kirsty’s murder if we had of known, do you?”

 

“I don’t see how. We have no idea what it means or whether it means anything at all. Broadchurch is a small village where almost everyone and everything is connected. Could just be a coincidence.”

 

“But you don’t think so?”

 

“No, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

 

“You holding up okay?” she asks quietly. “It’s not every day you discover the body of a young girl who you knew? On top of that Daisy was asleep upstairs during the murder. Your heart okay?”

 

“Still beating,” he says tightly. “We’ll take your car to inform Kirsty’s parents.” He walks away leaving her standing there looking worriedly after him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

ELLIE

 

She’ll never get used to this part. Telling parents that not only is their child dead, but that they were murdered.

 

“Was she worried about anything?” Her voice is gentle, respectful of their grief.

 

“Not that we were aware of,” Kirsty’s father, George Nicholls, says, his voice trembling. Irene Nicholls was so distraught she’s left the room to lie down, leaving her husband to answer their questions. “She seemed fine when she accompanied us to church last Sunday. Said she was having a great time house-sitting with Daisy and that she loved the kids. Even said she was thinking of starting training as a Montessori teacher next year. Irene and I were thrilled.”

 

“And you can’t think of anyone who’d want to harm her? Any past boyfriends?”

 

“No, Kirsty had one boyfriend when she was in Year 13. And I use the word boyfriend loosely. He was more of a friend than anything. They parted amicably, and they still keep in touch. He started university this past September – Oxford.”

 

“We will find out who did this to your daughter? Mark my words,” Alec informs them.

 

“What do you think?” he asks her as they walk to the car.

 

“They seem like grieving parents to me, but so did Ricky Gillespie and he still managed to fool us. Any red flags for you?”

 

Alec shakes his head. “None. I met George and Irene Nicholls the day Beth, Mark and I moved the girls in, and they seemed like decent people, good parents, but like you just said we’ve been duped in the past.”

 

“Don’t trust.” Ellie gives him a firm nod.

 

He holds her gaze, “Exactly.”

 

* * *

 

ALEC

 

“You both look wrecked. I’ll make you a cuppa,” Beth says when she opens the door to them. “Oh hullo,” she says, obviously surprised to see another officer with them. Alec introduces DS Brooks.

 

“I’ll help with the tea,” Ellie offers.

 

Beth waves her away. “Don’t be daft. How are Irene and George?”

 

_That’s right,_ Alec thinks. _Chloe and Kirsty went to school together, and Beth was there the day they moved the girls in. She probably knows the Nicholls family fairly well._

 

“They’re devastated. They attend St Andrews church regularly so Paul Coates was on the way over when we left. We’ll also appoint a Family Liaison Officer.”

 

Beth rolls her eyes. “Not Pete?”

 

Ellie shakes her head. “Depends who’s available.”

 

“I‘ll reach out to the Nicholls in a couple of days, offer my support. Meeting with Cate Gillespie really helped me after Danny died.”

 

Alec looks at her in astonishment, wasn’t aware she’d met with Cate. He notices Ellie looks just as surprised. Mentions of the Sandbrook case lead to thoughts of betrayal...

 

“Is my ex-wife here yet?” he asks.

 

“Yes, she arrived about half an hour ago. She’s in the sitting room with Daisy, Chloe, Mark, and PC Grant. Maxine’s asleep upstairs, and Nige has taken Lizzie and Fred to the park. Hope that’s okay? Thought it would be better if they weren’t here? They are both already confused over why they’re here and not at the girls place. They keep asking why Chloe and Daisy are upset and where Kirsty is. Poor little mites. I don’t know what to tell them?”

 

Alec blows out a breath. _Yet another thing they’ll have to deal with. How the hell do you go about telling a preschooler that his babysitter has died?_

 

Dragging his feet, he trudges after Ellie, Beth, and DS Brooks.

 

Daisy, sitting on the sofa between Chloe and Tess, holding her mum’s hand, jumps up as soon as she sees him.

 

“Dad.” She’s on her feet, flying across the room, throwing her arms around him.

 

He pats her awkwardly on the back, acutely aware of Brooks standing next to him scrutinising his every move, checking to see whether or not he remains objective and is up to the task of SIO.

 

He gently pushes her away, stepping back, trying to ignore the hurt look that crosses her face. “Go and sit with your mum, go on now, there’s a good girl.”

 

Tess, aware of the professional dilemma he’s in is already calling their daughter back. “C’mon Daze,” she says patting the seat next to her. “DI Hardy needs to ask you and Chloe some questions.”

 

Catching on, Daisy’s eyes widen, and sending him an apologetic look, she returns to her seat. As he watches she retakes her mum’s hand reaching for Chloe’s with the other. On the other side of Chloe, Mark has his arm around his daughter

 

It hasn’t escaped his notice that the four of them lined up on the sofa like that is eerily reminiscent of the four Latimer’s seated in a row, the day he had to break the awful news to them that their only son was dead.

 

Ellie sinks down into the second armchair (PC Grant occupies the first) while Brooks grabs two chairs from the dining table and sets them up to face the sofa. Beth walks over with a tray of drinks, setting them down on the coffee table, before perching on the arm of the sofa next to Mark.

 

He and Brooks take their seats. Leaning forward Alec rests his hands on his thighs, studying the girls intently. Daisy meets his eyes, her gaze steady. Chloe, on the other hand, shifts closer to Mark, looking terrified.

 

Alec sighs, realising that his next words are hardly going to put the girls at ease. “I’m afraid Kirsty was murdered.”

 

Neither girl looks particularly surprised by this revelation. It’s not as if a healthy seventeen year old would suddenly drop dead for no reason. Apart from accident or suicide, murder is the most obvious answer. Although he can’t rule out that their surprise may mean they know something, maybe even know the person responsible. He prays to God the latter is not the case. Chloe bursts into noisy sobs. Flinching, Daisy has tears in her eyes, but she manages to stay upright, and hold it together. Tess gives her hand a squeeze.

 

“How... how did she die?” Daisy asks.

 

“I’m sorry. I can’t give you any more details relating to cause of death at this stage.”

 

“But you’re positive she was murdered?”

 

He nods. “Yes.” Pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts, he says: “Talk me through your routine last night.”

 

“The three of us left your house just before seven. Beth drove us.” She looks at Chloe’s mum for confirmation. Beth nods.

 

“Did you stop off anywhere between our house and the Ackerman’s?” He directs the question to Beth.

 

“No.”

 

“Did you notice anyone following you?”

 

Beth shakes her head, her eyes firm. “I wouldn’t of dropped them off and left them if I had thought something was wrong.”

 

He turns back to his daughter, and Chloe. “Then what? What did you do when you arrived home? Watch telly?”

 

“Kirsty was... she was... tired, so she went to bed early, about quarter to eight. Chloe and I went upstairs. I watched some videos on my phone until Chloe came into my room around half ten. We spoke for about ten minutes, before turning out our lights.”

 

“And you didn’t hear anything during the night, nothing from downstairs?”

 

“If we had of, we would’ve called the police,” Daisy insists, but Alec notices she doesn’t quite meet his eyes when she says it. _What is she hiding?_ “It was really windy last night,” she adds.

 

“You definitely locked up?”

 

“Yes, Dad. Same as we do every night. How could I forget when you constantly keep reminding me? Sorry, I mean DI Hardy,” she amends hastily.

 

Choosing to ignore the irritation in her voice he continues with his questions. “Where do you keep the key to the front door? In the lock?”

 

Daisy shakes her head. “The Ackerman’s each gave us our own keys. I keep mine in my handbag.”

 

He raises his eyes in Chloe’s direction.

 

“There’s a jewellery box in the Master bedroom. Mine’s in there,” she confirms.

 

“And Kirsty’s?”

 

They both shrug, “Probably her bedroom or the sitting room.”

 

Alec makes a mental note to ask SOCO to check that the girls’ keys are where they said they left them, and to search for Kirsty’s key.

 

“The window in your bedroom wasn’t locked?” He hears Tess draw in a sharp breath at that. “Do you remember unlocking it this morning when you opened it to speak me?”

 

“I... I think so,” she says slowly. “Yes, I did.”

 

“Did Kirsty have a boyfriend?” he asks next.

 

“No. She’s shy, finds it hard to talk to boys. It takes her a while to warm up to people. She reminds me a little of you in that way, Dad.”

 

He’s not sure about the ‘warming up’ part, but okay. He frowns when he notices Ellie nodding in agreement over Daisy’s assessment.

 

“She was going out with Connor earlier this year,” Chloe says, confirming what Kirsty’s father told them. “He’s at Oxford.”

 

“You said Kirsty went to bed early? Why was she sleeping in the sitting room, and not her bedroom upstairs?”

 

Daisy glances at Chloe. “She didn’t want to sleep in there anymore cos she thought her room was haunted.”

 

“Excuse me?” He’s not sure if he heard that correctly.

 

“It’s my fault,” Chloe blurts out. “I invited him to the house.”

 

_Him?_ _Him who?_ Alec wonders.

 

He ventures a guess, “The ghost?”

 

Chloe stares at him like he’s gone mad. “No, Steve Connolly. He’s a medium psychic. We hired him to check the house for spirits. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun. I didn’t expect him to actually find one.”

 

Alec listens with mounting disbelief as she relays what Connolly found. _What a load of codswallop,_ he thinks his anger mounting. _Wait until he gets his hands on the bastard!_

 

Chloe’s still speaking. “He said it was safe but Kirsty didn’t believe him. Refused to sleep in there after his visit.”

 

“Chloe, how could you invite a complete stranger to the house? A man no less.”

 

“You’re one to talk, Mum,” Chloe yells, rounding on Beth. “You invited him into our house after Danny died.”

 

“When did Connolly pay you this little visit?” Alec grounds out.

 

“Monday night.”

 

“You invited him over at night?” he says incredulously.

 

“Yes.” To her credit Daisy looks ashamed, and so she bloody well should. She’s the daughter of not one, but two police detectives. She should know better?

 

“Don’t blame Daisy. I talked her into it. Kirsty didn’t want to either – “ Overcome, Chloe launches herself into her father’s arms, sobbing. “And now she’s dead.”

 

“Easy darling,” Mark soothes, rubbing her back.

 

“At any stage did you leave Connolly alone? Did he go to the toilet?”

 

Both girls shake their heads.

 

“No,” Daisy says. “We were with him the whole time.”

 

“Um...” Ellie speaks for the first time since they’ve sat down. “DI Hardy found toys all over the floor when he entered the kitchen this morning? Was the kitchen like that the night before?”

 

Daisy pales, “Was it blocks? I tripped over a block this morning. We keep the blocks in the toy box which is normally in the sitting room, but Kirsty moved it to the kitchen last night. We left the kitchen tidy.”

 

“Yes,” Alec says. “Fred’s ABC blocks?”

 

Daisy takes her time speaking. “Did... was there anything on the kitchen table. A message?”

 

“Message?”

 

Taking it in turns, Daisy and Chloe blurt out the entire story, starting with the first message, how they thought it was Fred, then Tom when it happened again. Then they thought it might be the work of a spirit so they contacted a psychic, and finally a relative of Joe’s seeking revenge.

 

Ellie’s eyes widen at the last part.

 

Alec can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?” he shouts.

 

“I was going to tell you this morning,” Daisy says tearfully. “I swear, Dad.”

 

“We thought you would make us give up the house-sitting, Chloe says. “We wanted to try and handle things instead of running to our parents at the first sign of trouble.”

 

Beth’s shaking her head. “You should’ve told us.”

 

“We wanted to prove to you that we could take care of ourselves,” Daisy says defensively.

 

“All you’ve managed to do is prove that you can’t,” Alec yells. Daisy visibly recoils at his words as if she’s been slapped.

 

“Alec, calm down,” Tess says fiercely putting an arm around the teenagers’ shoulders. Daisy sags against her.

 

Alec breathes slowly in and out. How many more deep breathes was he going to have to take during the course of this conversation. “After we’ve gone I want you to write down every message and the dates they were left?” he commands. “PC Grant will stay behind to collect it.” He looks over at her. She nods.

 

“One last question, did Kirsty ever mention knowing a man named Simon Albury?”

 

“The man whose murder you’re investigating? Lucy’s friend. No, cos she didn’t. Why?”

 

“Just a line of inquiry we’re following up.” He gets to his feet. “Okay, that’s it for now, but we will probably need to ask you more as the investigation progresses.”

 

“Is this the part when you tell us not to leave town?”

 

He frowns at his daughter not certain whether she’s joking or not. She looks serious; in fact she looks pissed off at him. He knows he’s been hard on her, knows he’s coming across as cold, hope she understands that he has a job to do.

 

She’s noticed him staring at her. “Dad, we don’t have to go back to the Ackerman’s, do we? I know we’re supposed to be house-sitting, but...”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

“I’ll be contacting the Ackerman’s as soon as I return to the station,” Ellie says. “So don’t give it another thought. They definitely won’t expect you to keep living there once they hear what’s happened.”

 

“We offered to sleep downstairs with Kirsty, but she said no,” Daisy says sadly. “If we had she might still be alive.”

 

Alec’s head whips around at that. _Or they might all be dead,_ he thinks. _To hell with it. Brooks can bloody well report him to Jenkinson if he wants to._ Walking over to Daisy he crouches down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “This is not your fault,” he says, looking her straight in the eye. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. There is no way you could’ve foreseen what was going to happen to Kirsty.”

 

She nods slowly. Kissing her on the forehead, he gives her hands a light squeeze before releasing them, and straightening.

 

Pushing herself off the arm of the couch, Beth stretches. “Well, it’s nearly three. Better head over to the school and pick up Tom.”

 

“He’ll have his bike with him,” Ellie tells her.

 

Alec can tell by her downcast expression that she wishes she could collect Tom herself, but just like him, knows they have to get back to the station.

 

“I’ll go too.” Daisy’s on her feet. “He might need me.”

 

Teary-eyed, Ellie gives her a grateful look. She turns to Beth. “We’ll pick up the kids as soon as we can.”

 

“Take as long as you need,” Beth says firmly. “Do whatever it takes to catch whoever did this.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

ALEC

 

On the drive to the station Alec learns what happened to Ellie that morning.

 

He can tell she was reluctant to share it with him, especially after what he’s just gone through with Daisy, but she’s aware that the person responsible will have to be dealt with. They definitely can’t afford anymore similar stuff ups. Reaching into her pocket she hands him the crumpled up piece of paper with the original message on it, which is just a formality, because he doesn’t doubt for a second that what she’s telling him is the truth. He reads the message anyway, his expression grim.

 

He’s appalled over what she must have gone through, imagining the body was his, or worse still one of their kids or Chloe or Lizzie. Guilt rushes over him, because he knows he should’ve phoned her directly, that she deserved to hear it from him. Why did he have to leave his bloody mobile at home? She said she tried to phone him, and when he didn’t pick up, she became even more frantic, certain that something had happened to him.

 

Back at the station he informs the team that the briefing will be in half an hour, before escaping to his office to mull over the events of the day.

 

He listens to Ellie’s message on his voicemail, hears the unmistakable quaver in her voice as she pleads him to call her back, which does nothing to alleviate his guilt.

 

Through the glass partition separating his office from the incident room he observes her conversing with DS Brooks. She’s holding up well under the circumstances and he can’t help feeling proud over how resilient she is. He meant what he said to her last year; she’s the strongest person he knows.

 

He speaks to the call handler who answered his 999 call, giving her a right bollocking, until he’s convinced she wasn’t the one in the wrong, it’s the desk sergeant who’s to blame.

 

He storms out of his office like a hurricane ripping through a building. Nearly everyone has stopped what they were doing, having already heard him yelling down the phone. Ellie attempts to catch his eye, but he brushes by her. He can tell by the way people look away as he approaches that they’re hoping they’re not the ones in the firing line. He can almost hear the collective sigh of relief as he leaves the incident room, striding purposely to the lift.

 

As soon as the doors open on the ground floor he’s out of the lift zeroing in on the officer manning reception. “Did you take down the message concerning this morning’s murder?” he asks, his tone cool.

 

Several people in the vicinity stop to gawk, but Alec doesn’t care who hears him.

 

The desk sergeant’s already bright red, “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”

 

He shoves the piece of paper at him, “Yes, there’s a bloody problem. Read it back to me,” he orders.

 

The officer does, turning white as he realises what he’s actually written. “I’m sorry, sir,” he apologies. “I made a mistake.”

 

“Kirsty Nicholls was our children’s babysitter. When DS Hardy received the news that a body had been found, and was wrongly told it was Kirsty who’d phoned it in, she thought the body was either mine or one of our children’s. Can you imagine how dreadful that must have been for her? What do you have to say for yourself?”

 

The officer wrongly chooses to go on the defensive. “Well maybe if you didn’t mix your professional life with your personal life, you wouldn’t have this problem? You’re only balling me out because she’s your wife?

 

“What did you just say? Alec snarls, poised to vault the desk and wring the bastards neck. “This has nothing to do with the fact that DS Hardy’s my wife, you imbecile. She’s the Inside DS, meaning everything regarding a case she’s assigned to goes through her. Because of your negligence she arrived at a crime scene unprepared, which delayed her doing her job properly.”

 

Presented with the damning evidence the desk sergeant has no option but to backtrack if he wants to save his arse. “Please don’t fire me,” he pleads. “It won’t happen again.”

 

“Go home, get out of my sight! I’ll find someone else to finish your shift. You’ll be receiving a formal warning in writing for this, and I’m damn sure Superintendent Jenkinson will want to speak to you as well. If it were up to me, you’d never work in law enforcement again. And if you ever make a mistake like this again, you won’t!”

 

Having said his piece, Alec turns around and heads back upstairs, feeling marginally better.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

Ellie knocks on the door of Alec’s office. The CID floor, probably all the floors in fact, are buzzing with the news of him barrelling up the desk sergeant, and then kicking him out of the building. As much as she’s grateful to him for defending her, she worries there might be repercussions. She’s doubts Jenkinson would actually remove him from the case/s, he’s the best DI Broadchurch has ever had and Jenkinson knows it, a fact Alec is also fully aware of. But if he continues to make very public scenes the Super might be left with no choice.

 

She’s relieved to note that he sounds calm when he calls out for her to come in.

 

“I spoke to the Ackerman’s,” Ellie tells him. “They were pretty distraught over what’s happened. They couldn’t think of anyone who might hold a grudge against them. I asked about keys and apart from the girls the only other person who’s in possession of one is the wife’s mother and she lives in Scotland. I mentioned the messages but they’ve never had anything like that happen. Nothing unusual ever occurred in the room Kirsty was sleeping in either as far as they’re aware, and have only ever used it as a spare bedroom. They’ve booked a flight out of Australia tonight.”

 

“Speaking of keys,” Alec says, leaning back in his chair, and placing his hands behind his head. “SOCO found Daisy’s and Chloe’s keys right where they said they were, and located a third key sitting next to Kirsty’s phone on the bookshelf in the sitting room. Tech is combing through Kirsty’s mobile, but so far they’ve discovered nothing out of the ordinary. On paper she appears to be exactly who Daisy, Chloe, and her parents say she was.”

 

“Us too, don’t forget? We both trusted her enough to look after our kids.” Ellie looks down at the floor. “And... I liked her.”

 

He moves from behind his desk and crosses the room to stand in front of her. “So did I,” he says, his voice heavy.

 

DS Brooks knocks on the door and hands Alec his keys. “PC Ward drove your car over. He also loaded the highchair into the boot.”

 

Ellie covers her mouth to hide her amusement, wondering when he thought of that.

 

Alec pockets his keys. “Ta. Have you arranged a Family Liaison Officer for the Nicholls?”

 

“He’ll be here first thing tomorrow.”

 

“All right. Well done.”

 

“Did you check with SOCO whether there was a message on the kitchen table?” Ellie asks when Brooks has returned to the incident room.

 

“There wasn’t. I didn’t think so cos I’m certain I would’ve seen it even though I was storming around flinging blocks in the toy box. Still can’t bloody believe I did that.”

 

“Stop being ridiculous,” Ellie says gently. “You can’t blame yourself for what you didn’t know. At that stage you weren’t aware that Kirsty was lying dead in the other room. From your standpoint, you were just doing housework for your daughter. Remember what you said to Daisy about her not being able to foresee what was going to happen? Well same goes for you as well. You need to take your own advice.”

 

Closing his eyes, he runs both his hands down his face. “Thanks, I really needed that.”

 

She nods. “So what are we thinking? The killer enters the house to leave another message, but we have no idea how they got in. All keys are accounted for and there’s no sign of forced entry. Killer makes their way to the sitting room cos they know where the toys are kept having left messages before, but the toy box isn’t where it usually is cos Kirsty has moved it to the kitchen.”

 

“Keep going,” Alec encourages.

 

“Killer discovers Kirsty sleeping on the sofa... ”

 

“Wait a minute,” he interjects. “Chloe mentioned it was Kirsty’s second night on the sofa so the killer had already left Monday night’s/Tuesday morning’s message, ‘So Much Pain’ which Kirsty slept through, so the killer had already gotten away with planting a message with her sleeping downstairs.”

 

“Right, so killer was feeling rather bold. Killer finds the toy box in the kitchen but accidentally knocks it over. The noise is loud enough to wake Kirsty, but cos it was a stormy night not loud enough to wake Daisy or Chloe. Kirsty gets up and follows the noise to the kitchen. Seeing the killer she goes to run away, but the killer chases her down, picks up the pillow and suffocates her.”

 

“So we’re thinking the killer was someone Kirsty knew, therefore could identify?”

 

“Or someone she could potentially recognise at a later time.”

 

“What was the date of the first message, again?” Alec asks. “The night of the day they moved in?”

 

She consults the piece of paper Daisy and Chloe have written up with the list of words and the dates of the nights they were left. She shakes her head. “No, the first word, ‘help’ was left the night of my first day back at work.”

 

“The same night Simon died. Another coincidence? I don’t think so. Let me see the list of words?”

 

Ellie hands it over.

 

_Escape Now._

_So Much Pain._

 

“Nope, doesn’t mean a fucking thing to me, aside from if you put the first two words it reads ‘Help Me’. A warning, maybe?”

 

“Or perhaps a cry for help? Who knows? They were limited by what words they could form, don’t forget? Only one set of blocks, so only one of each letter.” She shudders. “I can’t stand the thought of Fred playing with blocks that a killer touched.”

 

“Erm... as much as I think it’s unlikely I’m going to assign a couple of officers to look into the whereabouts of Joe’s relatives, Geoffrey Miller and Rachel Edgecombe over the past couple of weeks, as well as send someone to talk to Joe in prison in case he’s behind it.”

 

“You don’t think it is Joe, do you?”

 

“No, I don’t. But I’m not taking any chances. Also, Rachel’s husband, what was his name again?”

 

“Um... Tim.”

 

“He might hold us responsible for Rachel’s arrest. She wasn’t charged for withholding information but they divorced not long after so he could see us as being responsible for ruining their marriage.”

 

“But she was the one who came to us and confessed?” Ellie protested.

 

“We know that. But he might see us as the one’s who stirred things up.” Removing his glasses he rubs his tired eyes. “All right. Tomorrow we bring Connolly in for a nice little chat. Let’s call it quits for tonight. I’m sending the team home. We’re kick it off first thing tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

“Your mum is driving you back to South Mercier tonight,” her dad yells.

 

Arms folded tightly across her chest, she stands her ground. “No. I’m not.”

 

About an hour beforehand her mum had driven her, Tom, Fred, and Maxine over to her dad’s. Five minutes ago when Dad and Ellie had walked in the door her father had immediately started in on her insisting that she leave town tonight.

 

“I don’t want you to be here. It’s not safe. We have no idea who killed Kirsty, or why. You might be in danger.”

 

“I don’t care. I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying until you catch the person responsible. However long it takes.”

 

It’s her mum’s turn to try and convince her. “Daze, what if that never happens?”

 

Dread rushes over her. She spins around to face her father. “Is that true? You might not catch Kirsty’s killer?”

 

He shakes his head, “Ellie and I will find the person responsible, don’t you worry.”

 

“For god’s sake, Alec. You can’t promise her that.”

 

“I can, cos we will,” he says firmly.

 

“I can’t go, anyway. You said you might need to ask me more questions?”

 

“For Christ sakes, Daisy. I’m not asking you to go to the bloody moon,” Dad explodes. “I’ll phone you if I have any more questions or if the situation warrants your mum is quite capable of setting up an interview at South Mercier CID. She is a detective you know.”

 

Ignoring his sarcastic tone, Daisy says: “But I want to help. For Kirsty. I’m sorry, Dad. I know I screwed up. I should’ve told you about the messages sooner instead of going along with Chloe’s stupid plan to bring in a psychic. Please don’t make me go.”

 

She watches as her dad grinds his teeth. Holding her breath, she waits for his verdict.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

Ellie’s hovering in the hall, listening to Alec rant and rave, wondering if she should intervene or not. If his voice gets any louder he’s going to wake up Fred and Maxine and she’s just gotten the little ones to sleep.

 

She hears movement on the stairs and half turns to find Tom standing on the second to bottom step, a solemn expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Mum. I knew about the messages. I should’ve said something.”

 

“Yes, you should have. What have I told you about keeping secrets?” she fires at him.

 

He looks down, nudging one of the square stair lights with the toe of his trainer, unable to look at her.

 

“Come here.” Joining him on the stairs she wraps her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I know how much you liked Kirsty.”

 

“I miss her, Mum?” he sniffs.

 

“I know you do.”

 

“Ellie,” Alec suddenly yells from the other room. “Ellie!”

 

“All right. Coming.” She kisses her son on the cheek. “Go upstairs, yeah? Do something fun, play one of your games.”

 

Nodding, he climbs the stairs.

 

She’s barely made it through the sitting room door when Alec pounces on her, “Tell her we’ll find someone else to babysit for Fred and Maxine?”

 

“Sweetheart, Lucy or Beth will do it. Go with your mum.”

 

“I want to stay, Ellie.”

 

She appeals to Alec, “Can’t she –“

 

Face like thunder, he takes a step closer to her. “Don’t go against me on this,” he warns.

 

“I know you’re worried, but I think Daisy’s old enough to make her own choices, don’t you?”

 

Eyes hard and cold, his jaw clenches. “I’m her dad. I know what’s best for her. And what’s best for her is getting the hell out of this bloody village.”

 

“You’re being unreasonable. What you need to do is calm down.”

 

“I will when Daisy’s halfway to South Mercier.” If possible his voice rises even further.

 

“Keep your voice down,” she hisses. “You’ll wake Fred and Max.”

 

“I’m going for a walk,” he rages, stomping across the room, the tread of his heavy footsteps reverberating through the floor.

 

But Ellie’s having none of it. She follows him out into the hall. “No. No! You don’t just get to storm off just cos you don’t like what’s being said.”

 

Acting as if he hasn’t heard her, he whirls on his heel, yanking open the front door. His pointed dismissal of her has Ellie furious. Unable to stop herself she pushes him, instantly regretting it the moment her hand leaves his shoulder. Letting out a gasp, her hand flies to her mouth. She can’t believe she just did that. By Alec’s startled expression, as he struggles to stay upright, he can’t quite believe it either. With an angry look in her direction, he pivots stiffly, before stalking off.

 

“While you’re out you should look into a personality transplant because you could bloody well benefit from one,” she screams after his retreating back. “Wanker,” she mutters under her breath, slamming the door.

 

Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, she walks back into the room to find a wide eyed Daisy biting her lip nervously and Tess wearing a smug expression. Thank god they’d remained in the sitting room and hadn’t witnessed their physical altercation.

 

“You and Alec have an unusual way of relating to one another. Not sure it’s entirely healthy,” Tess says, her tone amused.

 

“We’re fine,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She can’t believe the nerve of the woman questioning her relationship with Alec in front of Daisy.

 

“If you say so.”

 

“Sorry, Ellie. I didn’t mean for Dad to take it out on you when you were just trying to stick up for me.”

 

“It’s okay. And don’t concern yourself with your dad. He’ll be fine once he’s had a chance to cool down.” Daisy still looks guilty. Ellie forgets that she’s not around as much so hasn’t witnessed as many screaming matches between them. Doesn’t realise that bickering is normal behaviour for them allowing them to resolve any conflict, clear the air, as well as unleash any bottled up emotions. Ellie firmly believes it strengthens their relationship overall.

 

“Well, it’s getting late,” Tess says, intruding on her thoughts. “Where’s the nearest hotel?”

 

If she was feeling more generous towards Alec’s ex-wife she’d offer to let her stay over, but she’s not. “The Traders in the High Street,” she says, mustering up as much sincerity as she can manage. “Becca Fisher will give you a good discount if you mention you know us.”

 

Unfortunately Daisy has other ideas. “Can Mum stay here tonight,” she begs. “She can sleep in my room. Please, Ellie.”

 

It’s the last thing Ellie wants on top of everything else, but Daisy looks so desperate, she relents. “Okay.”

 

“I’ll set up the camp bed.”

 

“Poor Daze,” Tess says, once she’s gone. “Alec does have a tendency to fly off the handle doesn’t he? I’m not impressed over the way he yelled at Daisy.”

 

 _Really?_ Ellie silently fumes. _Hard to tell when you just stood by and said nothing. Tess hadn’t said one word in defence of Daisy when she had challenged Alec._

 

“He’s just worried. It’s been a tough day for him as well. He’s a good Dad,” Ellie insists. “You’re not the only one who shares a child with him, don’t forget?”

 

“But your judgments not the best, is it Ellie? Your first husband being the perfect case in point.”

 

Letting out a gasp, Ellie stumbles backwards, not quite believing what Tess just said to her. And in her own home as well!

 

Realising she’s gone too far, Tess quickly says: “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I apologise.”

 

Hands on her hips, Ellie stares her down. “No you bloody well shouldn’t.”

 

“Mum,” Daisy calls from upstairs.

 

“Excuse me, Ellie,” Tess says, a smile quirking at her lips. “My daughter needs me. Thanks for letting me stay.”

 

* * *

 

LUCY

 

She wonders how her nephews and nieces are holding up, especially Daisy.

 

She’d only met Kirsty once but since she’s been doing Irene Nicholls hair for years, and customers tend to talk a lot in the chair, she feels like she knew her well. She seemed like such a sweet girl. As a mother herself she cannot imagine how a mother would cope with losing a child, and her heart goes out to Irene. She doesn’t know what she’d do if something happened to Olly. She wonders how Beth Latimer keeps going. Lucy supposes she has to because she has other children that need her.

 

Remembering that it’s bin day tomorrow, Lucy places her foot on the lever of the rubbish bin, popping the lid before reaching down to unhook the bag. Pulling it free she frowns when she hears the sound of clinking glass. Definitely a sound she knows all too well. Placing the bag on the lino she pushes the contents around until her eyes fall on a familiar object – an empty wine bottle. She stares at it, confused over how it got there. It’s definitely not Olly’s as he never brings alcohol into the house, out of respect for her recovery, and he’s never cared for wine anyway. That only leaves one other person – Patricia. She must be drinking again.

 

She can’t help feeling betrayed. Patricia is supposed to be the one supporting her, somebody Lucy’s aspires to be after years of sobriety. She wonders if this is Patricia’s only relapse.

 

The front door bangs. Lucy’s tempted to hide the bottle behind her back but she doesn’t.

 

“I’m going to miss the beach when I return to London. I forgot how much I used to love it. Ran into that lovely vicar – “ She stops in her tracks her eyes falling to the bottle in Lucy’s hands.

 

She looks startled. “Where did that come from?”

 

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly where it came from cos you put it there.”

 

Collapsing into a chair, Patricia places her elbows on the kitchen table, putting her chin in her hands. “Oh Lucy,” she moans. “I’m so ashamed.”

 

Pulling out the chair next to her, Lucy takes a seat, placing the wine bottle on the table halfway between them. “What happened?”

 

“It was just all too much, Simon’s death, finding out he raped that girl in Weymouth, and then the news that Kirsty’s been murdered. She had her whole life ahead of her, and it’s snuffed out just like that. What is the world coming to, Luce? This afternoon when I went out to get groceries at Morrison’s, before I was even aware of it, I was standing in the wine aisle, putting a bottle in my basket, heading for the check-out. When I arrived back here, and saw you were out, I unpacked the groceries and put them away, leaving the wine on the counter near the sink. Next thing I know I’m pouring myself a glass, holding it up to my lips. But I didn’t drink it Lucy, not even a sip. I tipped it down the sink. First the glass, then the bottle.”

 

“You should’ve called me. I would’ve come.”

 

“I know. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

 

“You swear you didn’t drink any?”

 

“I swear. It just all got on top of me. I’ve never known anyone who was murdered before, and now I know two people. My children are going to be so ashamed of me when they find out I bought alcohol. They’re so proud of me, especially Liam. I’ve let them down.”

 

“No you haven’t. There’s no reason to tell Liam and Jess. It will be our little secret. Everyone makes mistakes. I should know, I’ve made plenty. Just ask my sister. I’m certain she has a list somewhere.” Her words elicit a tiny smile from Patricia. Leaning across the table, Lucy places a hand on her friend’s arm. “The important thing to focus on is that you didn’t take a drink. But you have to promise me you will tell me the next time you are even slightly tempted?”

 

“I will. Thanks for believing me, Lucy. I owe you an apology as well for bringing liquor into the house of a recovering alcoholic.”

 

Jumping up from the table, Lucy grabs the bottle, stuffs it in the rubbish bag and makes quick work of tying the top. ”Speaking of that, I’d better get rid of the evidence before Olly sees it.” Shooting her friend a conspiratorial smile she picks up the bag and heads for the back door.

 


	10. Chapter 10

ELLIE

 

Ellie’s getting worried. Where the hell is he? She glances at the clock even though it’s been less than five minutes since she last looked at it.

 

It hasn’t escaped her notice that this is the second time today she’s panicked that something may have happened to him.

 

He has a tendency to roam the Harbour Cliffs when he’s frustrated. If he’s fallen over the cliff she’ll fucking kill him. Probably unlikely since he’s always been wary of the coastal path and still complains regularly about the lack of guard rail, and how much of a ‘death trap’ it is. He refuses to take Fred along the trail unless he’s strapped securely in his buggy and even hates Tom or Daisy walking along there. She suspects he’d strap them into a buggy if he thought he could get away with it.

 

She’s flipping through a copy of ‘Practical Parenting’ staring blankly at the pictures when she finally hears the front door opening followed by footsteps on the stairs.

 

“Are you all right?” she asks, when he enters their bedroom.

 

“Why is Tess’ car still parked outside?” he demands to know.

 

“Hello to you too,” she says quietly, closing her magazine. “Cos she’s spending the night. Cos Daisy needs her mum.”

 

He’s still staring at her as if she’s just told him she’s going to audition for Britain’s Got Talent. “You invited her to stay with us? In _our_ house?”

 

“Yes. I just said that. You need to listen more. Daisy got upset when she went to leave.”

 

“I need to apologise to her in the morning. Daisy I mean. Don’t give a toss what Tess thinks of me.”

 

“I think that’s a good idea.” She’s sorely tempted to tell him what Tess said to her about Joe, as well as their marriage, but he’ll only fly off the handle again. He may even go as far as kicking Tess out and even though Ellie would love nothing more than to see that woman out on her arse in the cold, in the dead of night, ultimately it’s Daisy who would suffer if that happened and the poor girl’s been through more than enough for one day. She’s determined to deal with Tess on her own, without involving Alec, because as much as she hates it his ex-wife is a crucial part of Daisy’s life so come hell or high water Ellie has to find a way to get on with her, at least superficially anyway. She will not allow Daisy’s bloody mother to jeopardise Ellie’s solid relationship with her stepdaughter.

 

A part of her thinks she should cut Tess some slack, aware that she’s undoubtedly very upset over what Daisy’s going through and is lashing out at Ellie, making snide comments as a result. It’s entirely possible she holds her and Alec responsible since what happened to Daisy happened on their watch so to speak. Tess has looked after Daisy for years with no issues. Daisy’s only been living in Broadchurch for a few weeks and the unthinkable has happened.

 

She’s shaken from her thoughts by Alec crashing around the bedroom, banging open drawers to select a clean pair of pyjamas before shuffling towards the en-suite to shower.

 

By the time he returns she’s snuggled under the covers, the single bedside lamp on her side still burning.

 

He takes his time getting into bed spreading the knitted throw normally reserved for decorative purposes over his half of the bed and then changing his mind and tossing it in the direction of the armchair situated under the window.

 

“What are you doing? Leave the blankets alone, and get into bed. Some of us would like to get some sleep tonight.”

 

When he’s finally settled, she rolls onto her right side to face him. “Just so you know I don’t appreciate being left to deal with upset children, and your ex-wife, by myself for several hours.”

 

“All right. Point taken. The walk helped,” he confides in her. “Things have been spiralling out of control all day. I feel a lot more on top of everything now.”

 

“Good,” she whispers. Reaching over, she strokes his brow. Closing his eyes, he leans into her touch. “I’ve been worried about you.” She bites down hard on the inside of her cheek. “Um, sorry I pushed you. Can’t believe I did that.”

 

He grunts. “Think you left a bloody bruise on my shoulder.”

 

“Did I?” She tugs gently on his arm, sliding up the sleeve of his tee-shirt. “Let me see.”

 

Frowning, she peers closely. “Can’t see anything,” she says, fingers ghosting over his skin. She raises her head, meeting his eyes. “Shall I kiss it better, anyway?”

 

His eyes light up. He jerks his head.

 

She does, pressing several kisses on his shoulder, mouth lingering. Looking up she finds him regarding her with an expression so full of hunger and tenderness that she almost forgets to breathe.

 

“You were pretty wound up earlier, as well, you know,” she accuses.

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. I know your bark is worse than your bite.”

 

He moves closer, his tone hopeful. “Care to test that theory.”

 

She blushes. “Yes, but not now,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “It’s too weird with Tess sleeping down the hall.”

 

“Christ! No longer married to her and she still manages to ruin my sex life. Can’t wait until tomorrow? I’ve had this nightmare several times, I walk downstairs to find my wife and my ex-wife discussing me over breakfast, and now it’s bloody well coming true.”

 

Ellie laughs, “At least you can joke about it.”

 

“Who’s joking?”

 

“I swear I won’t discuss you with Tess, all right? God there’s so much to do. Two murders to solve, now, and first thing tomorrow we need to find a babysitter for the kids. Think we could ask Lucy to take Fred and Max tomorrow? She helped us out on Saturday.”

 

“She will. Stop moaning on. Turn off your light, will you.”

 

Stretching over, she slides the switch, plunging the room into darkness. Cuddling up close to him, she smiles to herself when he puts an arm around her. “Alec,” she breathes, her voice muffled in his pyjama top.

 

He groans. “I’m sleeping.”

 

She pokes him in the ribs and he lets out another groan. “I want you to promise me that you’re not going to get all obsessed with Kirsty’s murder like you did with Pippa and Danny? Cos you’re not alone anymore. There are people that need you, rely on you – me, Daisy, Max, the boys. I can’t do it on my own, and I don’t want to.”

 

“I won’t.” Not satisfied she pokes him again.

 

“Cut it out,” he complains, capturing her hand in his. “I promise.”

 

She believes him. Even though she can’t see his face clearly in the dark she can hear the conviction in his voice. Not only that, she knows he wouldn’t lie to her. “We’ll catch her killer. We will. We’ll do it together, yeah?”

 

“All right. Together. We make a good team, Ellie.” Still holding her hand, he circles her inner wrist with his finger, leaving her body tingling. “Now how soon do you think, before we can we ask Tess to leave?” he asks.

 

* * *

 

ALEC

 

He wakes up to sounds of happy babbling.

 

“Ah... eh... ah, ah,” Maxine jabbers through the baby monitor.

 

Blinking sleepily, he shifts slightly. Still curled against him, Ellie nudges him in the side, “You owe me.”

 

“Ack,” he acknowledges, eyes drifting towards the bedside clock. “Bloody hell. Five AM.”

 

She smiles. “Better get in there before she wakes up Fred.” But she makes no attempt to move out of his arms.

 

She looks so adorable, cocooned against him under the blankets, with tousled hair, falling in her eyes that he can’t resist reaching out and winding a curl around his finger.

 

He chuckles when she responds by batting at his hand and rolling away. “And you say I’m the grumpy one?” he teases.

 

“Knob,” he hears her mumble into her pillow as he climbs out of bed, shaking his numb arm from where she’s been sleeping on it. Stumbling towards the door, he grabs his dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door on his way out.

 

Clad in a striped sleepsuit, Maxine gives him a wide gurgling grin as he approaches the cot. “Don’t you know it’s unnatural to be this happy so early in the morning,” he says bending to pick her up. “Always smiling, just like your mum,” he grunts, patting her back.

 

“Ahhhh,” she squeals, burying her face in the fleece material of his dressing gown.

 

Fred rolls over. “Dad,” he murmurs, still half asleep. “Is it morning?”

 

Balancing Maxine on his shoulder, he uses his free hand to straighten his stepson’s duvet, tucking the little boy in. “No. Go back to sleep, wee Fred.”

 

Trying to be quiet, he changes the baby’s nappy before heading downstairs to prepare her bottle. Bottle heated he carries her into the sitting room, settling into his favourite armchair to feed her.

 

He’s just popped the teat in her mouth when he looks up to find Tess leaning against the doorframe, quietly observing him.

 

“Not used to being woken by a baby,” she says, wandering into the room. She’s looks ridiculous wearing a white robe of Daisy’s decorated with black skulls, from back when their daughter was going through a Goth faze.

 

He lets out a snort. “Nice robe.”

 

“Packed in a hurry,” she smirks. “Forgot mine, in my rush to get to Daisy.” She straightens, wincing. “Bloody hell. That camp bed’s uncomfortable, which doesn’t surprise me as I recognise it from when you brought it not long after we started dating. One particular spring was digging into my back the entire night.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “If you’re unhappy with the accommodations, you’re more than welcome to leave. I won’t mind.”

 

_He briefly wonders whether he could get away with loosening a few more springs._

 

Shaking her head, she laughs. “You’re looking pretty comfortable there,” she says, indicating to Maxine.

 

He looks down. The baby watches him with wide hazel eyes, one hand clutching at the bottle, the other fisted in the sleeve of his dressing gown. He smiles at his daughter. “I am.”

 

“I can’t imagine going through it all again at my age. As much as I love Daisy, I neither really liked the baby stage. Didn’t think you wanted any more kids either?”

 

“No, I didn’t want any more kids with you.”

 

Tess visibly flinches and Alec winces inwardly. “Sorry,” he immediately apologies. “You know how grumpy I am first thing.”

 

“Not just first thing,” she says, but she smiles as she says it. Moving closer, she peers at the baby. “Have to admit, she’s cute. Not as cute as Daisy as a baby of course.”

 

“Ignore her,” he says to his daughter. “I do.”

 

Tess laughs again. Her eyes drift to the white and lime green personalised bib around the baby’s neck. “Maxine, after your mother right? Didn’t realise you were that close to her?”

 

There’s no way he’s sharing with her that he visited Broadchurch as a child. How he believes his mum’s parting words to him lead him back here as an adult to solve Danny’s murder, and more importantly, fall in love with Ellie.

 

“We like the name,” he says by way of explanation.

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

She’s walking along the beach wearing a long white sleeveless dress. She can feel the soft cotton material brushing against her bare ankles; hear the crunch of pebbles as her sandals strike the sand.

 

Waves crash and pound against the shore.

 

Up ahead, Kirsty is standing in the shallows, staring out to sea.

 

Kicking off her shoes, Daisy holds up the skirt of her dress, paddling out to meet her.

 

“What are you doing?” she calls.

 

Kirsty turns slowly. The wind is whipping through her long hair. She frowns. “Your parents are lying to you?”

 

“What about?” she asks, reaching her friends side. “Please tell me?”

 

“Don’t blame them. They did it to protect you. Sometimes parents have to lie to protect you.”

 

“I won’t,” she promises. “I miss you.”

 

Kirsty smiles, “I’m fine.”

 

A squawking seagull flies overhead. Distracted, she looks up. When she looks back down, Kirsty is gone.

 

That’s when Daisy wakes up, gasping for breath.

 

“Mum,” she whispers into the darkness. Then more urgently, “Mum!”

 

Fumbling for her lamp and switching it on she finds her mother’s unmade bed empty.

 

Two minutes later she’s heading downstairs following the sound of voices to the front room. From the doorway she observes Maxine sitting on her playmate propped up by a pillow waving her hands in the air excitedly as their dad, who’s sitting on the carpet in front of her, shakes a white giraffe with pink spots near her face.

 

Seated on the sofa cradling a mug of tea, her mum grins at him. “Think you’re supposed to squeak that?”

 

“I know that,” he says in a grumpy tone, a slight smile playing on his lips. The way he glances quizzically at the toy, giving it an experimental squeak, proves that he didn’t.

 

Her mum giggles. Actually giggles?

 

All Daisy can do is stare, convinced she’s still dreaming. It’s been a long time since she’s seen her parents smiling and laughing together. Pinching her bare arm, she winces, rubbing at the sore spot. Okay, definitely awake.

 

“I can’t believe you two are getting along?” she says to get their attention.

 

“Give it a couple of minutes,” her dad quips.

 

“Is Max all right?” she asks, walking into the room. “She’s not normally awake this early?”

 

“She’s fine, darling. What about you? Did you sleep okay?”

 

Still feeling a little spooked by her dream, she joins him on the floor. She’s wishes she was younger and could curl up in his lap like she used to. Instead she seeks comfort by reaching over to stroke the baby’s face. “Not really,” she says. “Spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about Kirsty.”

 

“Why don’t you go back to bed,” Tess suggests. “Have a sleep in.” She frowns. “Look at you wandering around with bare arms. Where are your winter pyjamas?”

 

 _At the Ackerman’s,_ Daisy thinks, shivering.

 

“See, you are freezing,” Mum says, thinking that’s why she’s shivering. Tugging at the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa, she crosses the room and drapes it over Daisy’s shoulders, rubbing her daughter’s arms vigorously.

 

“Don’t fuss, Mum. It’s warm as in here with the radiators,” Daisy says, even though she’s enjoying all the extra attention.

 

Yawning, she climbs to her feet, heading for the door, intending to go back to her room for a while. There’s no way she’s going to go back to bed though; isn’t prepared to risk having another dream about Kirsty. Thinking of her dream reminds her of her friend’s words to her, the same words Steve Connolly spoke to her the other night. She quickly spins back around. “Are you both lying to me?” she finds herself blurting out.

 

They both stare at her.

 

“What?” says Dad.

 

“Where’s this coming from?” asks her mum.

 

“The other night when Steve Connolly visited he looked right at me and said that you were both lying to me.” She doesn’t dare tell them that Kirsty said the same thing to her in her dream. They will think she’s off her nut.

 

Her dad stands. “Oh did he now?” he says in a deep voice, his anger surging to the surface.

 

She crosses her arms across her chest. “So are you? Are you lying to me?”

 

“Of course not, Daze,” Mum says. “What do you think we would be lying to you about?”

 

She shrugs. “Dunno.” She searches their faces for any signs of deception but finds none. They are both detectives though she reminds herself so they’re experts at keeping a straight face when a situation warrants. Giving up, she waves a hand in the air. “Forget it. Connolly’s full of shit.”

 

She walks out, without giving either of them a chance to reply.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the hiatus. Busy, busy, and also I’m more into another show at the moment. I will do my best to update more regularly again, but please bear with me if there are delays. On with the chapter...
> 
> ~Lisa.

ELLIE

 

Just like Alec had predicted breakfast is a weird and uncomfortable affair.

 

A subdued Daisy picks listlessly at her toast. Gone is the carefree, happy, smiling girl from a few days ago. She’s been touched by violence and nothing will ever be the same for her again as Ellie knows only too well. It kills her to see Daisy going through this. She can tell by Alec’s haunted expression, and by the way he keeps glancing at Daisy, that he is thinking the same thing, and that’s killing Ellie almost as much. She desperately wishes she could take their pain away.

 

“Need any help with the cases?” Tess asks.

 

“No.” Alec says briskly, his eyes briefly meeting Ellie’s. “We have everything in hand.”

 

Ellie can’t help feeling satisfied over the deflated expression that crosses Tess’ face.

 

Letting out a loud sigh, Fred pushes his nearly-full cereal bowl away.

 

“Not hungry, wee Fred?” Alec asks.

 

“No! I’m sad. I miss Kirsty.” Just before breakfast Ellie had sat him down and tried her best to explain what happened to Kirsty. He hadn’t really understood but had comprehended enough to know that the teenager was gone and wasn’t coming back

 

From his position seated next to Fred, Alec lifts the small boy onto his lap to give him a cuddle. Ellie’s dismayed to see Fred pop his thumb in his mouth, a habit they’d successfully broken nearly a year ago.

 

Alec pats his arm. “I know, lad. We’re all sad.”

 

“Even you, Dad?” Fred asks, looking up at him.

 

_Crap!_ Ellie thinks. She looks at Tess, daring her to comment on Fred’s use of the word ‘Dad’, but to her relief the woman merely raises an eyebrow, and says: “All right then, since you won’t let me assist with the investigation then I’ll look after the kids today.”

 

In the process of feeding Maxine, Ellie’s hand stills, the spoonful of stewed plums halfway to her daughter’s mouth. _Okay,_ she thinks. _Now things have just gotten even weirder!_ The baby, who had her mouth open in anticipation of the food she was about to receive, gives her mother a look of indignation so reminiscent of her father that Ellie has to bite down on the inside of her cheek hard to prevent herself from bursting out laughing.

 

“Er, thanks Tess,” she manages to say. ”But it’s not necessary. I was going to ask my sister.”

 

But Tess won’t give up. Her mouth quips, “C’mon, surely you’re not questioning my ability as a parent?”

 

Ellie looks over at Alec for confirmation. He shrugs. Bored with the conversation Fred slides off his stepdad’s lap and pads to the toy area set up in the corner of the dining room. Maxine’s head whips around her eyes following him as he goes.

 

Giving Tess a grateful smile, Ellie says: “Okay then, that would be great.”

 

“Just hope you appreciate the tremendous favour I’m doing you?”

 

Completely thrown by her nastiness, as well as her nerve, all Ellie can do is gape at her. She opens her mouth to retract her permission but Alec beats her to it.

 

“What do you want, Tess?” he explodes, slamming his hand down on the table. “A bleeding gold medal for your trouble? Are you looking after the kids, or do we need to find someone else?”

 

Daisy looks up, as if she’s just realised there are other people at the table. “I’ll help, Mum,” she says.

 

“I was only joking, Alec,” Tess sighs. “You take everything so bloody seriously.”

 

“It’s a serious situation,” Alec barks.

 

“Look, we’re all on edge,” Ellie says gently, desperately trying to be the peacemaker. “It’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”

 

“I want to visit Chloe, today,” Daisy suddenly demands. “She’s known Kirsty longer than I have so I can’t imagine what’s she’s going through.”

 

“Me too,” Tom says.

 

“And me,” Fred’s small voice pipes up from the corner.

 

As if in agreement, Maxine chooses that moment to wave a hand in the air.

 

“I’ll ring Beth a little later,” Ellie promises them.

 

Still in a huff, Alec pushes his chair back, rising to his feet. “I’ll be waiting for you out in the car,” he grumbles, his eyes sliding briefly in Ellie’s direction. “Get a move on, will you.”

 

Dropping the spoon in the now empty jar of plums, Ellie stands. It doesn’t help when Tess shoots her a look as if to say, ‘Thank Christ he’s your problem now’.

 

Tom follows her out into the hall “Mum, do I have to stay with _her_ ,” he moans. “Can’t I go to Auntie Lucy’s?”

 

“Please don’t give me a hard time about this,” Ellie pleads, winding a scarf around her neck. “I just don’t have the energy to deal with it today. You can either stay here or push on to school. Your choice?”

 

From the direction of the garage a car horn blasts.

 

_I’m gonna wring his bloody neck_ , Ellie thinks, clenching her teeth. “What do you have against Daisy’s mother, anyway?”

 

“I heard what she said to you last night, about Joe.”

 

She briefly wonders when Tom stopped referring to Joe as ’Dad’.

 

She checks behind him, making sure no one’s within earshot. “I’m sorry you heard that, but let me deal with Tess in my own way, okay? If I’m fine with her looking after you then you should be as well. And promise me you won’t tell Alec what she said. It will just make him mad, and Daisy needs her mother here with her.”

 

Tom doesn’t look happy. He crosses his arms across his chest and stares her down. “No secrets, your words,” he reminds her. She holds his gaze, her eyes firm. A beat passes before he reluctantly nods, “I won’t say anything.”

 

“And don’t give Tess any problems, and help out with Fred and Max.”

 

“Yes, Mum.”

 

She kisses him atop the head, “You’re a good boy.”

 

* * *

 

ALEC

 

“Mind if we record this interview,” Alec growls, his finger already poised on the record button.

 

Connolly shrugs. “Go for your life. I have nothing to hide.”

 

First thing that morning two officers were dispatched to Connolly’s address to bring him in for an interview. So far the practicing psychic has been surprisingly co-operative. _Let’s see if it lasts,_ Alec thinks, preparing to grill him.

 

“Two murders in Broadchurch now and you’re connected to them both. First you tell us you felt Simon Albury’s death, and then we find out you paid a visit to Kirsty Nicholls house two nights before she died. Did you _feel_ her death as well?”

 

“No,” he cries. “The house was safe. She wasn’t in any danger. I was so sure.” He covers his face with his hands. “How could I have gotten it so wrong?”

 

“Is it a habit of yours to visit teenage girls late at night?”

 

“It wasn’t late,” he protests. “It was seven o’clock. And, I visit anyone who asks for my help. Chloe Latimer asked for my help.”

 

“Paid you, you mean. You took advantage of three vulnerable young girls... filled their heads with a bunch of horseshit. Scared one of them so badly that she no longer wanted to sleep in her own bedroom. If she hadn’t of been sleeping on the sofa she might not have been murdered.” Jutting a finger in his direction, Alec says in a low, quiet voice. “Kirsty Nicholls death is on you.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head repeatedly. “I didn’t know.”

 

Shifting forward in his chair, Alec eyeballs him. “You left the messages didn’t you? You needed them to think their house was haunted, so they would contact you? Then you could ask them for money and pretend to banish a ghost. And then what... keep leaving messages to ensure they asked you back? Then... a few months down the track, you write a book detailing how you saved scared teenage girls from the clutches of evil... or some shit! It was all a scam!”

 

“No, no, no,” he says, still shaking his head. “There was a spirit in the upstairs bedroom, I swear. Something happened in that room.”

 

Alec leans even closer. “Did you kill Kirsty? Did she wake up when you went to plant your latest message?”

 

“No, I didn’t kill her.”

 

“Where were you last Tuesday night until the early hours of Wednesday morning?” Ellie asks.

 

“At home. Watched telly, then went to bed.”

 

“Can anyone vouch for that?”

 

“No,” he says, in a defeated tone. “I live alone.”

 

“I gather you’ve been telling my daughter a load of shit about me?” Alec says. “If I ever find out you’ve spoken to her again I won’t be responsible for my actions...”

 

“Are you threatening me?” Connolly’s eyes rest on Ellie. “You heard him. Is he allowed to speak to me like that?” he whines.

 

Ignoring him, she says: “Daisy Hardy’s my stepdaughter. You stay away from her, is that clear? Chloe Latimer too.”

 

Connolly turns his attention back to Alec. “C’mon DI Hardy, we both know that what I’m saying is not a lie,” he says quietly.

 

Alec sucks in air through his teeth. “You’re free to go, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

 

As soon as the interview is over Alec ushers Ellie into his office closing the door behind them, and drawing the blinds closed.

 

He approaches her, his face serious. “Do you think he knows about Tess’ affair? That it was her fault the pendant was stolen? Enough so that he could convincingly relay it to Daisy?”

 

He can tell by the way she starts biting on her lower lip that she’s contemplating lying to him, but they’ve promised each other to be honest in all things, so with a shake of her head, she gives him a sympathetic look. “God, I hope not.”

 

He rubs the heels of his hands over his closed eyes in an attempt to clear them. “Yet another thing to worry about, on top of everything else we’ve got going on.”

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

“Tess is babysitting.”

 

“What?” Lucy screeches down the line, causing Ellie to hold her mobile away from her ear. “Why didn’t you ask me? I would’ve been happy to look after them.”

 

“I know, but Tess was convenient, and she offered.” She breaks off a stick of Kit Kat and takes a bite. Knows she shouldn’t be eating it, is aware that once she stops breastfeeding she’s likely to put on weight, but she really needs an energy boost. She feels sick that Connolly may know the finer details of Tess’ betrayal. If he hurts Daisy or Alec, it won’t be Alec Connolly has to worry about, it will be her!

 

“Ooh, I’ve never liked that woman. Might drop by later, offer my support to Daisy, and check in on the kids.”

 

“That would be great. Tom will be happy to see you,” she says, recalling Tom’s earlier reluctance to be looked after by Daisy’s mother. “And, play nice with Tess, all right? Daisy doesn’t need any more grief at the minute.”

 

Her sister mumbles something under her breath which she doesn’t quite catch.

 

“Luce,” she says. “Did you know that the house Daisy, Chloe, and Kirsty were house-sitting in was two doors down from where you used to live in Everson Road?”

 

“Two doors down? You don’t mean the Ackerman house, do you?”

 

“You know it?”

 

“Simon lived in that house. Bit of a coincidence isn’t it, two murder victims, both living in the same house?”

 

“What?” She sits up straight in her seat, sliding her chair closer to her desk. Even though she’s sure Lucy’s wrong she hurriedly clicks her mouse, bringing up the file on Simon. “No, the address we have for him on file is Spring Close? More to the point, I remember him living there.”

 

“You’re not wrong, that was his address. But his aunt used to own the house the Ackerman’s now live in, and Simon and his wife stayed there for four, maybe five weeks while the aunt went on holiday to Spain.”

 

“Shit. When was this?”

 

“Er, April or May, 1997. Somewhere ‘round there.”

 

“Gotta go, Luce,” she says. “Alec needs to know about this.”

 

Disconnecting the call, she walks slowly towards his office, deliberately dragging her feet, reluctant to speak to him. He’s still boiling mad over their conversation with Connolly and this oversight isn’t going to do anything to lift his mood.

 

“Oh for fucks sake,” he says, when she breaks the news to him, coming to his feet so fast that Ellie’s surprised he doesn’t knock over his desk, or at the very least, his chair. “Why wasn’t that included in the information we have on him? Is the aunt still alive?”

 

“I don’t know,” she says, involuntarily taking a step back, as he rounds his desk to stand mere inches from her face. “Lucy only told me ten seconds ago.”

 

“Well, find out will you,” he yells.

 

Running a tired hand through her hair, she scurries away. She’s barely made it back to her desk when he barges out of his office with all the ferocity of a pit bull about to attack.

 

In the incident room he commands silence simply by glaring, and chopping the air with his hand.

 

“Which one of you collected the past information on Simon Albury?” he asks, his voice, low, barely-controlled, eyes sweeping the room for the person responsible.

 

As Ellie watches, an officer, who sits two desks down from her, reluctantly raises his hand.

 

Alec spends nearly five minutes yelling at the poor man who felt the fact that the aunt owned a house in town wasn’t relevant therefore hadn’t included it in his findings.

 

She feels sorry for the officer until she reminds herself that if they had of known where Simon’s aunt lived they could have possibly prevented Kirsty’s death. Maybe they would have put a stop to the house-sitting or at the very least had a car stationed outside the house, and then maybe they would have caught the intruder before the person murdered Kirsty.

 

Locating the information on Simon’s aunt, she calls him over, interrupting his tirade. “His aunt’s name was Mildred Albury. Died 2006.”

 

Scrambling for his glasses, he circles her desk, placing his hands on the back of her chair. Glasses in place, he leans in close squinting at her screen. “Yet another dead end,” he sighs, speaking only loud enough for her to hear. His warm breath tickles her scalp, resulting in a blush that starts at the back of her neck before creeping up to her already flushed cheeks. She averts her gaze to avoid detection.

 

“Sir. Ellie.” The desk sergeant has just walked onto the floor. Not the same one Alec sent home the day before, thank Christ!

 

“Yes. What is it?”

 

“George Nicholls is downstairs, asking to speak to you and DS Hardy.”

 

Alec scratches his beard. “Kirsty’s father?” he says, in a tone that suggests it’s the strangest thing he’s ever heard. He recovers quickly and waves a hand in the desk sergeant’s direction. “Show him to the family room. We’ll be there in a minute.”

 

“He didn’t bring his wife with him?” Ellie notes as they approach the family room a couple of minutes later. “Think he has some information for us that he doesn’t want Irene Nicholls to know?”

 

“Let’s hope so,” Alec mutters under his breath.

 

“Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee?” Ellie asks, after they’ve greeted Kirsty’s father.

 

He shakes his head. “The officer who showed me to this room already offered me one.” His eyes drift to Alec, “How’s your daughter?”

 

“She’s upset, but she’s coping. Her mum’s with her.” Even though his tone is polite Ellie can detect the underlying impatience in his voice. As long as she’s known him he’s never been one for small talk.

 

As if he’s read her mind, George Nicholls clears his throat, and says: “Might as well get straight to the point. My wife and I haven’t been entirely honest with you?”

 

From a detective standpoint the words are music to their ears. From a personal standpoint all Ellie can feel is dread.

 

“Okay,” Alec says evenly. “What about?”

 

“My wife didn’t want me to come and see you but I felt I had to. I cannot imagine that what I’m about to tell you has anything to do my daughter’s death, but if there’s a slim chance it does...” He falls silent, looking beyond them.

 

Holding her breath, Ellie waits for him to collect his thoughts.

 

“Um...” He clears his throat. “Kirsty was adopted through private adoption. My wife and I were unable to have any children of our own so in 1996 we made the decision to apply to adopt through a voluntary adoption agency. A year later our appointed social worker found us a match, and in early February 1998, when Kirsty was two-weeks old, we picked her up from a foster Mum.”

 

Tamping down her shock at the revelation, Ellie puts all her energy into getting answers. “Do you know anything about her birth parents?”

 

“Nothing, really. Her biological mother filled in a family history form, but there’s little information on it. History of heart disease in her family, aside from that not much else. No information supplied regarding Kirsty’s birth father. Our social worker told us she was desperate to remain anonymous, had given specific instructions that she had no interest in the baby once it was born, which suited my wife and I as we wanted to be the only parents in Kirsty’s life. She always felt like ours from the first moment we laid eyes on her, even before. By not knowing anything about the woman who gave birth to our daughter, we could almost pretend she wasn’t adopted.”

 

“Did the social worker give any indication what age the biological mother was?”

 

He shakes his head, “None. From a statistical stand point I would suspect she was probably a teenager, but who knows for sure?”

 

“What was the name of the agency you used?”

 

“Amanda Wendell Holmes Adoption Agency in London, where we used to live. We moved to Broadchurch as soon as the adoption was finalised, to hide the fact that my wife hadn’t given birth. Both our parents died young, and neither of us have any siblings, so it was surprisingly easy to keep it a secret.” Standing, he hands Alec several pieces of paper. “This is all the information I have on the agency we used. It’s not much I’m afraid.”

 

Accepting the documents, Alec asks: “Have you ever seen a copy of Kirsty’s birth certificate?”

 

Again George Nicholls shakes his head. “No. As soon as the adoption was granted we received an adoption certificate in replace of the original birth certificate.”

 

“Did Kirsty know she was adopted?” is Alec’s next question.

 

“No, we were going to tell her on her eighteenth birthday. We were dreading it, worried over how she’d react. Now we’d do anything to go back to when that was our only worry.”

 

“Did anyone else in town know Kirsty was adopted?” Ellie interjects.

 

“No one. Well except for our pastor that is.”

 

“Your pastor,” Alec echoes. “You don’t mean – “

 

“Reverend Paul Coates. Do you know him?”

 

Alec shoots Ellie a satisfied look. “We know him well,” he mutters.

 


	12. Chapter 12

ELLIE

 

Paul Coates is waiting for them on the bench overlooking the graveyard. Climbing the hill, Ellie recalls sitting there with him and Alec over two years ago, laughing over the computer teacher who used to sit and giggle to himself.

 

They’ve barely sat down before Alec starts firing questions at the vicar. “How long have you known Kirsty was adopted?”

 

“About four years now. Her parents told me not long after I took over the parish here.”

 

“Did you tell anyone?”

 

Paul leans back, crossing his arms across his chest, “Of course not.”

 

“Not even Kirsty?”

 

He looks horrified. “It’s true, I was against her parents keeping it a secret from her, and I gave them a lot of counselling and spiritual guidance regarding it, but I would never betray their trust like that. It was up to the Nicholls to tell her. I knew they intended to break the news to her in January on her eighteenth birthday, and I have to admit I was dreading the fallout. She was such a well adjusted young woman, I prayed that the shock of finding out she was adopted wouldn’t cause her to go off the rails. She’s pretty talented... was talented,” he corrects, his face sad. “Loved gardening and cooking – “

 

“She made Spaghetti Bolognese for us the other night,” Ellie interjects. “It was delicious. Oh god just realised that was the night she died.” She looks at Alec in alarm. “We ate the last meal she ever cooked.”

 

Reaching over, Paul pats her lightly on the arm. “I know. She used to make scones for the Youth Group every Sunday. They will be missed. She will be missed... by a lot of people, including me.” He clears his throat, looking over at Alec. “How’s your daughter?” It’s the second time Alec has been asked that question in less than two hours.

 

“She’s hanging in there,” Alec tells him.

 

“I visited the Latimer’s this morning. Spoke briefly with Chloe. I can stop by your house if you like, have a word with Daisy?”

 

“That won’t be necessary,” Alec says tightly. “She’s not a churchgoer.”

 

“It’s not a requirement,” Paul says mildly. “Grief counselling’s available to everyone in this community if they need it.” He looks pointedly at Alec. “Including you.”

 

Alec makes a rude noise in his throat. “I’ll pass.”

 

“Tess Henchard, Daisy’s mother is staying with us,” Ellie rushes to add, annoyed by Alec’s behaviour. He’s never liked Paul, but Ellie disagrees, will be forever grateful to him for helping her with Joe. “She’s helping Daisy deal with everything.”

 

“Oh yes,” Paul says. “I spoke to DI Henchard a couple of times in regards to Joe’s case.”

 

“That’s right, you did.” Ellie’s silent for a moment, deep in thought. She looks at Paul. “Actually I might need your help regarding counselling. I spoke to Fred this morning about Kirsty’s death but I’m not sure if I handled it right as he was pretty upset over breakfast so perhaps it might help if you had a word with him?”

 

“I’d be happy to. Anytime.”

 

“I’m not sure. Will see how he goes over the next few days and get back to you.” Out of the corner of her eye she observes Alec shooting daggers at her. Ignoring him she looks away.

 

“Are you really going to let that man sprout a whole lot of religious nonsense at Fred?” he asks as they cross the churchyard towards the parking lot.

 

“If it helps Fred, then yes,” she insists. “What’s wrong with having a little faith, anyway? I’m so over this vendetta you have against Paul. He’s a good man.”

 

Alec grumbles all the way back to the car.

 

* * *

 

To Ellie’s immense satisfaction Tess is looking pretty harassed when they arrive home. Grunting a hello Alec immediately disappears upstairs to take a shower.

 

“I had forgotten how much work children are,” Tess groans. “Don’t envy you, Ellie. Fred’s fast on his feet, isn’t he? I won’t need to go to the gym this week.”

 

“Ah... yes, he can be a bit of handful.” Ellie pulls a face. “Where is he now?”

 

“In the sitting room, watching telly with Daisy and Tom.” She sweeps a hand towards the baby. “Maxine spent most of the day staring at me, looking so much like Alec that it was pretty unnerving.” Tess sighs. “Don’t think she likes me much.”

 

“Did she? That’s unusual. She’s normally such a smiley baby.” She steps over to the highchair. As if to prove Tess wrong, Maxine immediately breaks out into a huge smile at the sight of her. “What’s this I hear about you giving Tess a hard time, today, hmmm?” Maxine wobbles her head, swiping her hands at her face as if trying to hide her eyes. Ellie leans closer to her daughter, speaking low, so Tess can’t hear. “Good girl,” she whispers.

 

“I think the little ones are feeling a little out of sorts,” Ellie tells Tess. “Confused over the disruption to their regular routine.”

 

“I’ve ordered pizza,” Tess says. “Should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

 

“Okay, thanks. Just gonna change my clothes, then I’ll be back down to take over with the kids.”

 

In the hall she’s accosted by Tom who’s been bursting to tell her that when Tess tried to get Fred to eat his lunch he told her she was ‘full of bollocks’. “It was proper funny, Mum,” he laughs.

 

Sucking in a breath, she buries her face in her hands. “Oh! I really need to stop swearing around Fred, don’t I?”

 

Tom opens his mouth to add something else, changes his mind, giving her a smile instead. She’s relieved to see him happy and smiling again even if it is at Tess’ expense.

 

* * *

 

DAISY

 

“Kirsty was adopted?” She and her dad are cleaning up after dinner. Again, she recalls Steve Connolly’s words from the other night, _Your parents are lying to you_ , and how Kirsty had mistakenly believed he was talking to her. “Steve Connolly was right in what he said, then? Well sort of, except he got the wrong person. You see, Dad, Kirsty was standing right next to me when he said it, so he thought it was my parents that were lying to me, but it was Kirsty’s.”

 

In the process of wiping down the highchair, her dad stiffens. “I wouldn’t put an iota of faith in what Connolly says.”

 

Rinsing a dinner plate she slides it into the dishwasher. “It’s still eerie how accurate he was. Do you think that means he was right about something bad happening in the Ackerman house?”

 

Throwing the dish cloth in the direction of the sink, he turns his back to lean against the cupboard. Crossing his arms across his chest, he peers at her closely. “Did Kirsty ever mention to you that she was adopted?”

 

She gapes at him. “I thought you said she didn’t know? That her parents never told her?”

 

“We can’t rule out that she found out some other way.”

 

“If she knew, she never confided in me.” Crossing to the table, she plucks an apple from the fruit bowl, twirling the stem. “Are you angry at me?”

 

He pushes himself off the cupboard moving towards her. “I’m not. Just so grateful the person who murdered Kirsty didn’t go upstairs.”

 

She chokes out a sob. “I miss Kirsty so much. Why did this have to happen?”

 

Closing the gap, he holds her close while she cries.

 

“Better?” he asks, when she steps back from him.

 

Still sniffing, she bobs her head.

 

Unravelling the kitchen roll, he rips off a sheet, holding it out to her. She accepts it gratefully, blowing her nose.

 

“No more tears,” he says, trying to sound firm but failing miserably. “I get enough of that from Ellie.” He shakes his head, but she sees the admiration in his eyes. “Never met a woman who cries so bloody much.”

 

Smiling through her tears, Daisy laughs lightly.

 

He smiles as well. “That’s more like it, darling.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter’s so short. Now that I think about it I would’ve been better to make this part of Chapter 12. More soon, I promise!
> 
> ~Lisa.

DAISY

 

Max is crying.

 

Confident that Dad or Ellie will attend to the baby, Daisy rolls over, reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed. In the semi-darkness she can just make out the shape of her mother, snoring softly, curled up in Daisy’s sleeping bag. She smiles to herself; her Mum’s probably pretty exhausted from running around after Fred all day that not even a crying baby is enough to wake her anymore.

 

Maxine’s cries grow louder. Frowning, Daisy listens intently for the sound of footfalls, followed by Ellie’s soothing voice, or Dad’s grumpy one, but crying aside there’s only silence.

 

Are they testing out some kind of new sleep routine that she’s not aware of?

 

Shoving back the covers, she slides out of bed. Barefoot she tiptoes quietly to the door being careful not to wake her mum.

 

In the hall she flips on the light.

 

A chill rushes down her spine. She still can’t hear anything aside from crying. Why has no one else woken up?

 

She’s halfway to Maxine’s door when the light above her flickers and goes out, making her pivot towards the sound.

 

Just a blown bulb, she tells herself. Nothing to freak out over, but it’s all a little too horror movie for her liking. Increasing her pace, she hugs her arms around herself.

 

The door to the kid’s room is partway open. She slowly pushes it open all the way and slips into the room. “I’m here, Max. Don’t cry,” she says padding across the carpet, as her sister continues to wail. Daisy’s eyes drift to Fred’s bed, to where the little boy is sleeping soundly. She supposes he’s used to the baby crying but is still surprised he’s sleeping through such a racket.

 

Reaching the cot, she looks down, receiving the shock of her life. Maxine is lying on her back sleeping peacefully, but she can still hear a baby crying. Stumbling backwards, she shakes her head in disbelief. She opens her mouth to call out for her dad, call out to anyone.

 

A noise behind her has her whirling around, her scream dying in her throat.

 

Kirsty stands in the doorway carrying a baby in her arms. Daisy watches as she jiggles the baby trying to sooth it. The crying stops.

 

Curious, Daisy walks towards her. “Whose baby is that?”

 

Her friend looks up, smiles. “Her name’s Amy. She’s not alone anymore.” She puts a finger to her lips. “Shhh... Mum’s the word.”

 

That’s when Daisy wakes up, gasping for breath, her pillow wet with tears.

 

“What you are trying to tell me, Kirsty,” she whispers into the darkness.

 

* * *

 

ELLIE

 

Another day passes and they’re still no closer to finding out who killed Kirsty.

 

Amanda Wendell Holmes Adoption Agency has been contacted, but unfortunately the social worker who dealt with Kirsty’s adoption died in 2013. No one who currently works there remembers Kirsty’s biological mother, and they have no additional information regarding her. “We advise the birth mother to supply as much information as possible”, they’d said. “But sometimes they are reluctant to for whatever reason, so we don’t push it.” They are current waiting for the Registry Office to send over Kirsty’s birth certificate.

 

Sitting on the sofa in Alec’s office, Ellie buries her face in her hands. “Are we ever going to catch a break?”

 

To her surprise he abandons his desk, and joins her on the sofa. He turns to face her, his face serious. “It’s time to tell Daisy the truth about Sandbrook. She’s old enough and she deserves to know. I hate lying to her and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’ll talk to Tess, give her the heads up as a courtesy but I won’t change my mind.”

 

Shifting nearer, she meets his gaze. “I’m all for it... you know I am, but I don’t think now’s the right time, with everything Daisy’s going through. She’s still grieving.”

 

“I didn’t mean today... but soon.” He sighs heavily. “Just hope she doesn’t hate me.”

 

DS Brooks knocks on the glass, causing them both to start. “Sorry,” he apologises, “Thought you’d want to know right away. We just received a copy of Kirsty Nicholls original birth certificate.” Ellie’s surprised when his eyes flicker nervously in her direction. “You’re definitely going to want to see this.”

 

Whacking on his glasses Alec beckons for him to hand it over.

 

She attempts to read over his shoulder but she can’t quite see, and she doesn’t want to scoot too close to him what with DS Brooks standing right there, watching them.

 

Reading quickly, he raises his eyebrows. Dropping the paper, he turns to look at her. Her stomach plummets upon seeing the shocked expression on his face. What’s happened now? She doesn’t know how much more she can take.

 

“What is it?” she manages, her voice coming out dry and scratchy. “Wh... what does it say?”

 

He takes a deep breath. “Kirsty’s mother. It’s Lucy Stevens.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! Hope you can fit in some reading – perhaps while recovering from a sugar high. :-) Even though this isn’t a horror story, this chapter should still give you a little scare... maybe... ;-)
> 
> ~Lisa.

ELLIE

 

“This is ridiculous, Ell? How could I hide a pregnancy? You know how much weight I put on when I was pregnant with Olly?”

 

Ellie lets out the breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. Yes, she does recall Lucy showing early, and putting on weight all over, the only time her sisters ever been heavy, and agrees such sudden weight gain would have been noticeable. Relief settles in the pit of her stomach. She knew it couldn’t be true! Following Alec’s bombshell, her mind had gone completely blank. She’d immediately sought to cast her mind back to that period, tried to picture Lucy standing in front of her, but to her immense frustration she couldn’t.

 

She’d been vaguely aware of Alec saying: “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” his voice etched with concern, his comforting hand at the small of her back as he ushered her out to the car. He had even driven, without her asking him to, while she’d sat in the passenger seat saying over and over in her head that there was no way Lucy would, or _could_ , keep such a big secret from her, that there was not one iota of a chance that her sister could be Kirsty’s mother, that Kirsty is, _was_ , her niece. As much as she kept silently repeating the words the doubts kept seeping in. Lucy had a long history of getting into trouble, as well as keeping secrets.   

 

Back in the present she says: “I’m sorry, Luce. I have to ask these questions.” 

 

Ignoring her, Lucy continues to rant and rave. “You know how much I’ve always wanted another child, especially a little girl. John and I tried but I had trouble falling pregnant. That’s why I spoil Max so much. I love having a little girl in the family to dress up.”

 

_That’s true, she does,_ Ellie thinks, recalling the pink puffer jacket Alec was complaining about the other day.

 

“I can prove it. Remember Olly’s eighth birthday party?”

 

Ellie nods. “Yes. But, it’s okay. We believe you.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind seeing this proof,” Alec says curiously, earning a glare from Ellie.

 

Striding over to the bookcase, Lucy slides out a photo album. Walking back over, she flips through the pages. “Here,” she holds up the album, tapping a photograph. “Kirsty was born January sixteenth, 1998, yeah? Here’s me at Olly’s party on the twenty third of January, 1998. Even though it was the middle of winter, I was particularly proud of my figure back then, so this is what I was wearing.” She waves the album in Alec’s direction. “Does it look like I just gave birth seven days beforehand?”

 

Looking at the picture, Ellie remembers that particular figure-hugging dress now, and how envious she’d been that day. It showed off Lucy’s curves to perfection including her very flat waist.

 

Glancing briefly at the picture, Alec clears his throat, averting his eyes. “No.” His gaze flicks to the other pictures from the party. He frowns, “Can I borrow this?”

 

Rolling her eyes, Lucy passes it to him. “Knock yourself out,” she mutters. She takes another look at the birth certificate. “Oh my god, not only is my name on here, but John’s as well. This is a legal document,” she cries. “Do I need to do anything about this, inform the registry office? What’s John gonna say about this? He’s going to think this is all my fault.”

 

“What do you care?” Alec shrugs. “You’re no longer married to him.”

 

Ellie shoots him a look, stepping forward. “We’ll sort it out Lucy. But let’s not worry about that now, okay? We need to try and figure out who did this.”

 

She takes a deep breath. “Um, okay.” Glancing down at the birth certificate she scans it quickly, frowning. “They listed the baby’s name as Amy Stevens. I always liked that name,” she says a bit wistfully.

 

“That’s right. I had forgotten that,” Ellie admits, frowning as well.

 

“That’s what I wanted to name Olly if he’d been a girl.”

 

“How many people knew you liked the name Amy?” Alec asks.

 

“Not sure. It wasn’t a secret. I’m a hairdresser... we tend to gossip when a clients in the chair. It’s expected.”

 

Alec runs a hand through his hair. Ellie can tell he’s getting frustrated over Lucy’s evasive answers. “Can you think of anyone who would use your name to hide a pregnancy?” he probes. “Do you have any enemies?” Ellie notices, he’s having trouble keeping a straight face during the last question.

 

Lucy notices as well and narrows her eyes at him. “I’m sure I’ve pissed off a lot of people over the years, especially when I’ve been drinking but no one stands out.”

 

“Speaking of hairdressing... what about customers...” He pauses, chopping a hand through the air. “Are there any who didn’t like the way you did their hair?”

 

She lets out a snort, “Of course... there always are, but none that spring to mind as particularly malicious.”

 

“And there was no one missing from your life January 1998, without a good reason?”

 

She shakes her head, “No – “ Her eyes widen. “Yes. Simon’s wife, Sandra. She was out of town around that time. Said she was in Devon cos her mother broke her leg.”

 

* * *

 

Back at the station, Alec squints at the whiteboard. “Okay. What do we know about Sandra Albury? Definitely don’t buy the ‘sick relative’ story. That’s the oldest excuse in the book, right up there with ‘the dog ate my homework’.”

 

“Um, Lucy mentioned Sandra had trouble conceiving but maybe that was just a cover story. Maybe she didn’t want children and she accidentally fell pregnant, and went away to have the baby in secret.”

 

“Ack, makes sense.”

 

“But she couldn’t have killed either Simon or Kirsty, cos she hasn’t been back since she emigrated to Canada. Customs confirmed that.”

 

“Hand me Lucy’s album?” Opening it to the page of Olly’s party, she passes it to him, watching as he peruses the photos.

 

“Aw...” he says. “Wasn’t Oliver cute back then? What the hell happened?”

 

She can’t help but smirk at that.

 

Eyes resting on another photo, he props up the book to show her. “This is Sandra right? Hope so, since she has an arm around Simon. Does she look like she’s just given birth to you?”

 

Ellie’s face falls, as she looks at the photo. Sandra’s just as scantily clad as Lucy. “That’s her,” she says. “And no, she doesn’t look like she was recently pregnant.” Frustrated, she looks down, studying the dirt under her fingernails.

 

Looking up, she observes Alec looking right at her. “What?” she asks.

 

He shows her another picture from the party. It’s her, wearing an oversized cable knit jumper, and jeans. “You weren’t tempted to wear a dress like Lucy’s?” he asks, tilting his head, his eyes teasing.

 

Screwing up her face, she shakes her head. “Not really my style. Besides I didn’t have anyone to wear it for back then.”

 

“What about now?”

 

“Let’s get back to work, shall we? You’re the one who keeps insisting we not mix the two.”

 

“I’m the boss. I say when we get back to work. Answer the question.”

 

“Lucy was in her twenties when she wore that dress,” she protests.

 

Alec snorts, “Bet she would wear it now.”

 

Ellie doesn’t doubt it.

 

He leans closer, his eyes boring into hers. “So, would you?”

 

“Well... maybe if you ever take me on that honeymoon you promised me, then I would have something to buy a dress for?” she says, turning the tables on him.

 

Clearing his throat he reaches for the album again, “Should really push on.”

 

“So typical!” Ellie shakes her head in annoyance. “Now that you don’t like the direction the conversation is taking, you want to get back to work?”

 

Evading her eyes, he keeps his eyes glued to the album. He frowns. “Patricia had the same idea as you. She’s also suitably dressed for winter.”

 

“Well we know it’s not her. She was in rehab being treated for alcohol addiction at the time, remember?”

 

He looks up. “What if she wasn’t?”

 

Ellie’s heart lurches. “Huh! What do you mean?”

 

“What if she was never an alcoholic? What if she just told everyone she was checking into rehab in London, but she really spent those eight weeks preparing to give birth and arranging the adoption through the Amanda Wendell Holmes Adoption Agency, also located in London?”

 

“But why keep up the pretence of being a recovering alcoholic all these years? Her daughter Jessica was even planning on having an alcohol-free wedding to accommodate her mother’s addiction.”

 

“She had no choice. When her husband was alive she had to maintain the cover story that she’d been in rehab, and after he died her children were old enough to be aware of the fact, so she was forced to keep up the pretence.”

 

“I’m remembering something now,” she says. “When Patricia moved to Broadchurch in 1991 she was in the late stages of pregnancy with her second child, Jessica. I remember my mum marvelling over how little weight Patricia had gained during her pregnancy. It stands out in my mind cos she said, “That won’t be the case for you, Ellie”. I was fifteen years-old at the time. I was so embarrassed, swore I’d never have any kids, for fear of gaining weight. Guess I got over that. So, you think Patricia killed Simon and Kirsty? Why?”

 

“Erm... maybe Simon found out she’d had a baby back then. Threatened to tell Patricia’s kids? From what we’ve learnt about him, he wasn’t a very nice man.”

 

“But that doesn’t account for Kirsty? She didn’t know she was adopted?”

 

“According to her parents. What if Simon told her?”

 

“But Simon never made it to Broadchurch that night?”

 

“He phoned Kirsty then?”

 

“Tech went through his phone records...”

 

“Phone box?”

 

“And the messages at the Ackerman’s?”

 

“Left by Patricia, meant for Kirsty, warning her not say a word? Chloe and Daisy both said Kirsty was the most agitated over the messages.”

 

Ellie’s shaking her head. “If Patricia is Kirsty’s mother, do you really think she could murder her own daughter?”

 

“I don’t know, but I do know one thing, Patricia’s potentially dangerous. We’d better get over there. Call Lucy, warn her.”

 

Ellie already has her phone out, scrolling for Lucy’s number.

 

* * *

 

LUCY

 

“Ellie actually accused you of having a baby in secret and putting it up for adoption? Patricia’s eyes are like saucers, a fork full of vindaloo halfway to her mouth. “Do you really think Sandra is Kirsty’s mother?”

 

“It fits, don’t it? Still can’t believe she used my name at the adoption agency? Even going as far as to sign my name on a legal birth certificate.”

 

Patricia chews her food. “Guess she was desperate.”

 

“I suppose. I always thought she wanted children? We often spoke about it since we both struggled to fall pregnant. She sure had me fooled.”

 

“Maybe she saw something in Simon she didn’t like?”

 

‘What do you mean?”

 

“Well... as much as we don’t want to believe it, we’ve since been told he’s a rapist? Maybe he got violent with her?”

 

Lucy gasps. “Ooh, you could be onto something. Better give my sister a call?” She picks up her phone from the table, changes her mind, and puts it back down again. “On second thoughts, stuff her. I’ve had enough of Ell for one day. She and Hardy are smart enough to work it out on their own.”

 

Lucy observes Patricia chasing a stray piece of beef around her plate with her fork. She’s been keeping a close eye on Tricia since the incident. This morning she had a quick scout around the house checking for alcohol, while Patricia had gone out for groceries but thankfully found nothing amiss. She prays it was just a one-off for her friend, a small almost slip-up.

 

Reaching for the takeaway container, she spoons chicken korma onto her plate. “Have you received a text from Liam today?”

 

Patricia puts her fork down. “Yes, I feel guilty lying to him. Keep telling myself I didn’t actually take a drink, so he doesn’t need to know. Would you tell Olly if it happened to you?”

 

“Yes,” Lucy confirms. “That’s the first thing I learnt in rehab. Sneaky behaviour is dangerous.”

 

Patricia seems to be considering that. “You’re right, Luce. You’re such a good friend. Will tell my kids when I return to London, promise.”

 

Lucy’s phone rings, vibrating against the surface of the table. Glancing down, she sees Ellie’s name flash across the screen. Answering the call, she launches with: “I’m still angry with you.”

 

“Lucy, you need to listen to me very carefully.” Ellie’s anxious voice drifts down the line. “We think Patricia’s involved in both Kirsty’s and Simon’s deaths. If she’s there with you, say Max’s name in a sentence.”

 

Trying not to let her shock and anger show outwardly, Lucy says: “I suppose I could look after Max for you. Doesn’t mean I forgive you though.”

 

“Okay, make some excuse to leave the room. Don’t let on to her that you suspect anything’s wrong.”

 

“Didn’t quite catch that. Hang on.” She gets to her feet, whispering to Patricia. “Bad connection. I’ll be right back. Should just hang up on her after the way she treated me, but she’s still my sister.” She says the last part loud enough for Ellie to hear to make certain that her sister receives the message loud and clear that she’s still furious with her.

 

Once she’s out of the room she walks halfway down the hall, launching into Ellie.

 

“What the hell do you mean by saying Tricia had something to do with Simon and Kirsty’s murders?” she hisses. “Christ, Ell, you’re really barking up the wrong _trees_ today. First you accuse me of having a baby, and now – “

 

“Shut up, Lucy,” her sister hisses. “And keep your voice down, Patricia might hear you. Where are you?”

 

“In the hall.”

 

“Is Olly at home?”

 

“No. He’s still at work.”

 

“I want you to get out of the house right now. Don’t even stop to grab your handbag or your car keys. Just start walking. Alec and I are on our way.”

 

“What the fuck, Ellie.”

 

“Just do it. Please, Lucy. Leave now. Walk towards the main centre of town. We’ll pick you up, and I’ll explain everything.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” she loudly whispers. “But let it be known that I think you are being ridiculous.... again!”

 

She disconnects, stabbing the button hard. God, Ellie is such a drama queen! She’s certain, there’s no way Patricia has anything to do with what happened to Kirsty and Simon.

 

Sighing, she drags her feet towards the front door.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

She whirls around. Patricia is standing in the kitchen doorway.

 

“Um, I thought I would take a walk on the beach. You’ve been raving about it so much lately thought I’d give it a go.” She suddenly remembers Patricia has a habit of taking walks along the beach late at night, because she’s said she’s been plagued by bouts of insomnia, since giving up drinking. Has laughingly told Lucy that she often wonders whether she just traded one addiction for another? Was she out the night Kirsty was killed? Lucy thinks she was. And the night Simon was killed, she said she had to run some errands, that she would meet Lucy at the restaurant. Oh god! Is Ellie right? What has Patricia done?

 

She holds her breath, waiting to see if Patricia buys her story. Her friend’s smiling. It can’t be her? She wouldn’t hurt anyone? Her friend nods. Exhaling a relieved breath, Lucy takes a step towards the door.

 

“Aren’t you going to take your coat?”

 

Lucy stills. Shit, how could she be so dumb? “Oh... yeah, don’t know where my head is.” She makes a show of walking to the hall cupboard. Then she mentally kicks herself for turning her back on Patricia. She’s fights the urge to spin around, deliberately making herself turn around slowly to face her friend.

 

“When are you going to be looking after Maxine?”

 

“Sorry?” she says, clutching her coat.

 

“The call you just took from Ellie?”

 

“Oh yes. That’s tomorrow. Hardy’s ex-wife is heading home,” she improvises hoping like hell that she sounds convincing.

 

“Not Fred then?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Who’s looking after Fred?”

 

She thinks fast. “He has Nursery in the mornings.”

 

Patricia nods. Holding her breath, Lucy turns to leave again, but Patricia’s already firing another question at her. “Why can’t Daisy look after the kids?”

 

“Cos she’s still upset over Kirsty.” Lucy suddenly becomes aware that she’s making herself look suspicious by succumbing to Patricia’s endless questions, that under normal circumstances she wouldn’t put up with it, so she switches tact, her voice rising. “Why are you asking me all these questions, Tricia? I don’t owe you a blow-by-blow account of my activities. I’ll see you later, okay?” she ends, in what she hopes is a firm tone, even though her voice is quavering.

 

Patricia takes a step in her direction, two. Lucy automatically backs up. She can’t help herself.

 

“You’re a crap liar,” Patricia says. “Glad it’s your sister who’s the detective and not you. I knew something was up the moment you took that call.” From behind her back, she brandishes a kitchen knife. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

LUCY

 

“Ellie and Hardy are on their way,” Lucy pleads, hoping to reason with her. “It’s over.” She backs up as far away as humanly possible until her back hits the solid wood of the hall cupboard.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Patricia says.

 

“I know you don’t...”

 

The distinctive sound of a car pulling up outside has her trailing off. Patricia’s heard it as well and her eyes briefly slide in that direction. Lucy contemplates diving for the knife, quickly deeming it a stupid move. That only even works on telly.

 

“That’ll be them,” Lucy says, as a car door slams. She extends her palm. “Give me the knife... Tricia, please...”

 

To her dismay, Patricia makes no attempt to lower the weapon. Lucy holds her breath as footsteps sound on the concrete.

 

“Don’t even think about calling out a warning,” Patricia says.

 

The door opens, and Lucy’s heart almost stops when Olly walks through the door.

 

“No!” she cries. “Olly, get out!”

 

“Mum, what – “ Confusion momentarily clouds his gaze, until his eyes take in Patricia brandishing the knife. “What’s going on?”

 

Instinctively Lucy flies in front of Olly, pushing him behind her. “Please... leave us alone. Think of your own son – Liam’ll never forgive you if you hurt us.”

 

Sirens sound in the distance.

 

At the mention of Liam, Patricia finally appears to be wavering. Doubt crosses her face and she sways on her feet. “I’m so sorry,” she says, opening her hand and releasing the knife. It clatters to the floor just as Lucy takes a step towards her. Flying forward Patricia gives her an almighty shove, and colliding with Olly, mother and son fall to the floor. Recovering, Lucy raises her head just in time to witness Patricia exiting through the front door.

 

Untangling herself, Lucy scrambles to her feet. “I need to go after her. She’ll listen to me.”

 

Olly grabs her arm, but she immediately wrenches herself free. “Mum, don’t,” he pleads.

 

“I have to,” she breathes, hurrying to the door. “Stay here... wait for Ellie and Hardy.”

 

But Olly doesn’t listen. “Mum,” he calls, following her out.

 

* * *

 

ALEC

 

Driving at a crawl, they both scan the footpath for signs of Lucy.

 

“Where the hell is she?” Ellie says, whacking the steering wheel, her frustration and annoyance becoming more evident the closer they get to Lucy’s. “I thought I’d gotten through to her, should’ve known she wouldn’t listen to me. Why is she so bloody stubborn? You don’t think she’s done something stupid like tell Patricia we suspect her, do you?”

 

“Not sure?” he says, eyes flitting from one side of the road to the other.

 

“Couldn’t you at least pretend to reassure me?” Her voice chokes up. “She’s my sister.”

 

He opens his mouth to say something; he’s not sure what, when out of the corner of his eye he stops a familiar figure darting across the road moving fast. “Stop the car,” he says urgently. “It’s Lucy.”

 

He’s out of the car, before she’s even come to a complete stop.

 

“Hardy!” He pivots just in time to see Olly heading his way, running down the middle of the road, two uniforms hot on his heels. Alec hears Ellie walk up beside him. Reaching them, the out of breath journalist turns his attention to her. “Auntie Ellie,” he gasps, pointing towards the alleyway. “Mum followed Patricia down there. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

 

Alec immediately recognises it as one of several access points to the coastal trails. “Make sure he stays here,” he tells one of the PC’s, indicating to Olly. He beckons to the other PC. “You, come with me. Elle – “ He turns to address her, quickly realising she’s gone after Lucy and Patricia without him. _Shit!_

 

“You can’t do this, you bastard,” Olly yells, as the PC restrains him by the arm to prevent him from following. “It’s _my_ mum out there!”

 

“File a complaint,” he grunts, jogging across the road. “The last thing I need is one more person getting in the way.” Picking up the pace he starts down the alleyway.

 

“Ellie!” he calls his heart thudding in his chest, as he exits the dark lane. “Damnit, Ellie!”

 

Hitting the path leading to the cliffs, to his immense relief he immediately spots her up ahead, standing motionless. He’s never been more grateful for that bloody high-visibility orange coat.

 

Practically pouncing, he grabs her by the shoulders. “What the hell are you playing at, running off like that without backup?”

 

She acts like she hasn’t even heard him. “I can’t find her, Alec,” she says, clutching at his arms. “I can’t find Lucy. Do you see her?”

 

Breathing heavily, he releases her, his eyes scanning the area. Beyond them, the slightly-overweight PC Alec instructed to follow them, finally catches up.

 

The wind whips at Alec’s hair, throwing it in his eyes, as he continues his search for any sign of Lucy or Patricia. “There,” he says, just making out two figures near the cliff edge. He runs towards them, hears Ellie’s and the PC’s footfalls behind him.

 

As he gets closer Lucy’s voice drifts towards him, urgent. “Come away from the edge, Tricia!” she says. “It’s not safe. I know you don’t want to hurt yourself.”

 

He approaches Lucy at speed, stopping short when he reaches her, causing Ellie to almost collide with him. “Get out of here,” he tells his sister-in-law, taking her by the arm. “Go with the officer. Let us handle it!”

 

“No, I’m not leaving,” Lucy insists, extricating herself from his grasp. “Tricia’s my friend.”

 

“Lucy – “ Ellie starts to say.

 

“No!” she repeats.

 

Pushing by her, Alec takes a step forward. “Patricia... it’s DI Hardy. Don’t be afraid. We just want to talk to you.”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about! I just want it all to end! Don’t come any closer,” she warns watching his approach, while at the same time taking a step closer to the edge.

 

“All right. All right,” he says, holding his hands up, backing off to stand next to Lucy. “Talk to us. Tell us your side.”

 

“I love the beach,” she says, staring off into the horizon. “Philip and I had a good life here.”

 

“We want to hear all about it,” Alec says. “Come away from the edge so we can talk.”

 

She shakes her head. “I can’t!”

 

“Think of your kids,” Lucy cries. “Liam and Jess need you. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. They’ll understand.”

 

At first Alec is annoyed over Lucy’s interference, but it’s not long before he realises his sister-in-laws words are getting through to Patricia, so he keeps quiet.

 

“No they won’t! How could they possibly understand that I killed two people?”

 

“I know one thing,” Lucy insists. “They won’t understand if you choose to kill yourself. If you jump now, all that they will know is that you’re a murderer. Liam and Jess deserve to know what really happened. Please... go back to the station with Hardy and Ellie, please Tricia.” She holds out her hand.

 

Patricia turns to face her, her face anguished. “Simon ruined everything.” She takes a step towards her friend.

 

“It’s okay,” Lucy pleads. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

 

“Walk towards me,” Alec instructs. She does, walking slowly. “That’s it,” he encourages. Easy now...” Stepping forward, he takes her hand.

 

Beside him, Lucy breathes a sigh of relief.

 

* * *

 

“It was April 1997, Simon’s birthday. He and Sandra were staying at his aunt’s house while she was abroad. They were adding an extension to their house so it worked out well for them.” She lets out a harsh laugh. “Don’t know why I added that last part, it’s not fucking important.”

 

Listening intently, Alec and Ellie sit side by side in interview room one, opposite Patricia and her solicitor.

 

“It’s okay. You can tell us anything you want. We’re here to listen,” Alec reassures.

 

“As per all of our parties back then there was a lot of alcohol involved. Lucy, John, and Sandra in particular were knocking them back like water. I always wondered whether that’s why Sandra had so many issues conceiving...” She pauses, laughing harshly. “The problem wasn’t with Simon anyway, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

 

“I felt really sick cos I started off on wine and then switched to spirits... never a good combination. I went upstairs to the loo... ran into Simon on the upstairs landing. I’m sure you can piece together the rest... given what happened to Ava Collins? He wouldn’t let me past, and next thing, he pulled me into the bedroom he and Sandra shared. I tried to fight him off... but it was useless. I called for help... but the music, and the noise from the party, drowned out my cries.”

 

Feeling sick, Alec has to force himself to remain silent, needs her to keep talking; doesn’t want to risk her clamming up. Out of the corner of his eye he observes Ellie shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

 

“I tried to put it behind me. Simon acted as if it had never happened to the point that I almost convinced myself I had imagined it... I avoided him as much as possible, made sure I was never in a situation where I was alone with him... started drinking more, to block it out. Was so distracted I didn’t realise I was pregnant, and like my first two pregnancies it was months before I started showing. By the time I found out it was too late to have an abortion... I didn’t know what to do... couldn’t believe I had this monster growing inside me. I started looking into adoption agencies... Amanda Wendell Holmes was the first listing in the phone book. They promised to be discrete... arranged for me to stay in one of their flats for several weeks leading up to the birth. For the benefit of everyone I used the cover story that I was going into rehab. It’s not like it was any great surprise to my husband... given how much alcohol I was consuming. Couldn’t believe it when the baby was born and she looked so normal. Felt for sure she’d have that Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Is that what it’s called? How could something born out of such an evil act look so normal? After the birth I returned home... tried to get back to some semblance of normal... but found it impossible. It sickened me being near Simon... I don’t know how I made it through Olly’s birthday party...”

 

Alec’s unable to stop himself from looking at Ellie. Remembers her saying Simon flirted with her at that same party. By the disgusted expression on her face he’s certain she’s thinking the same thing.

 

“I convinced Philip to apply for jobs in London, was very relieved when he was offered one pretty quickly. Things got better after that... well... bearable anyway. I continued to drink heavily, in secret of course, since my family thought the rehab had been a huge success. I worried Philip might get suspicious and somehow find out about my fake rehab if it appeared I had fallen off the wagon. Turns out I was giving my husband too much credit... he never suspected anything was amiss.”

 

“Why go after Simon after so many years?” Ellie asks.

 

Patricia smiles, her face bitter. “I was at work a couple of months ago, when Ava Collins came into the surgery with a friend. She’d chipped a tooth. In the waiting room I overheard them discussing the rape; her friend was urging her to get counselling, said she wasn’t dealing with it as well as she thought she was. They didn’t mention Simon by name, but when I heard them say Albury-Cameron Insurance I became suspicious. I looked up the Company, discovered it was co-owned by Simon, and that it was located in Weymouth, where I knew he’d moved to. From there I formed a plan... I was so disgusted he’d raped someone else... gotten away with it again. I couldn’t allow him to get off scot-free... Ava Collins was close in age to my daughter. I phoned Lucy... practically invited myself to stay with her.”

 

“Lucy said she arranged the dinner with you and Simon?” Ellie says.

 

She shakes her head. “No... I suggested it... made her think she’d come up with it herself. The night of the murder... Monday evening, I phoned Simon on a pay as you go mobile, said I wanted to talk to him in private before we met up with Lucy.”

 

“Where’s the pay as you go?” Alec asks.

 

“I dumped it in one of the bins in the High Street on the way to the Thai House. Can’t recall which one. About five forty I drove down the Coastal Road to meet Simon. I knew it was a huge risk meeting him in such a public place... would have preferred a more private location, but I was pressed for time... couldn’t be late to the restaurant to meet Lucy. I didn’t want to stop for long, knew it was only a matter of time before someone noticed me. But I got lucky, as if it was meant to be. Had only been waiting for less than a minute, when Simon approached. We wound down our windows to speak and I suggested we go for a walk. He readily agreed, pulling over to park on the verge.”

 

“Wasn’t he suspicious, concerned over being alone with you given that he’d raped you?” Ellie asks.

 

She lets out a snort. “Course not. Like I told you, he never thought for a second that what he’d done was rape. Thought I had consented, thought it was just a bit of rough sex. But... to make sure he did get out of the car, I resorted to flirting with him, to reel him in. Knew he wouldn’t be able to resist that, and I was right.”

 

“He opened the boot to get a torch, and while he was reaching for it, I seized the opportunity. Up until that point I hadn’t planned how I was going to kill him... again it’s like it was fate. I brought the boot crashing down on his head, and he fell to his knees. Next, I grabbed the torch... hit him as hard as I could in the head, before dragging him around the side of the car out of sight of passing traffic. I was so worried someone would see me... stop to help... but if I’ve learnt one thing in my life it’s that people are oblivious. I made sure to chuck his driving licence and mobile down the bank...” She winks. “Didn’t want to make your job too easy... Then I got out of there quick smart... drove to the restaurant... where Lucy was waiting. That was supposed to be the end of it... but unfortunately there was an unprecedented complication...”

 

Alec swallows the lump in his throat, “Kirsty.”

 

Patricia nods, “The day before I killed Simon I was crossing the field just as the Sunday church service was letting out. Ahead of me a teenage girl was walking with her parents... when I noticed something fall out of her handbag. I stopped to retrieve it, calling out to her. Turned out it was her student ID, and I couldn’t help glancing at her birth date. It threw me for six when I realised she had the same January 16th, 1998 birthday as the baby I had given up... but I didn’t think anything of it. Broadchurch is a long way from London and I knew the couple I had adopted the baby to, lived there. But... then I looked at Kirsty and swore I could see traces of both Simon, as well as my daughter Jess, in her facial features and mannerisms. I still thought I was imagining it, that the mere fact that she had the same birth date was causing me to see something that wasn’t there. But then we got to talking and introduced ourselves and I recognised their names. That’s when I knew it was them.”

 

“You knew their names?” This is from Ellie.

 

“That was one of the three things the agency told me about them prior to the adoption – their names, the fact that they lived in London, and their occupations.”

 

“I mentioned I was visiting a friend in Broadchurch, and also that I used to live there. They asked whereabouts, and when I mentioned Everson Road, they laughed and Kirsty said something about what a small world it was, and that she and her friends were currently house-sitting on that street. I asked what number and when she told me my heart almost stopped right then and there.”

 

“Simon’s aunt’s house?” Alec says. “Mildred Albury?”

 

“Yes. Couldn’t believe Kirsty was living in the same house Simon had raped me in. I mean, what are the chances? I often walked along the beach at night, told Lucy I suffered from insomnia... which was one of the few truths I told her. So late Sunday night I walked to the Ackerman house and snuck onto the property. To my horror I received yet another shock! Kirsty was standing in the window of a bedroom, getting ready for bed, smiling as if she had not a care in the world.”

 

Alec leans forward. “You realised it was the same bedroom Simon had raped you in?”

 

“Exactly! I was proper scared... ran all the way back to Lucy’s. I tried to put it out of my mind... put all my concentration into killing Simon. Once he was disposed of, I told myself it was over... but I couldn’t stand the idea that Kirsty was living in that house. What right did she have to be there? It was as if she was deliberately taunting me? I knew I had to get her out of there... so I decided to scare her away.”

 

“How did you gain access to the house?” says Alec.

 

“I was Mildred Albury’s neighbour for years, don’t forget? She had a cat that I sometimes used to feed. At the time she kept a key hidden in a pipe around the back. It was still there... guess after she died it was forgotten.”

 

“It still worked?” Alec asks incredulously. “It’ll been years. No one thought to change the locks?”

 

Patricia shrugged. “It’s Broadchurch. It’s a safe place to live.”

 

_Until you came here,_ Alec thinks.

 

“Kirsty caught you, so you killed her?” Ellie says her voice catching.

 

“Yes. On Monday night I saw her sleeping on the sofa, but I still crept around anyway, left the message, ‘So Much Pain’. The next night she was still sleeping on the bloody sofa... don’t know why when she had a perfectly good bedroom upstairs. But... she’d sleep through the night before so I decided to risk it, again. Unfortunately, someone had moved the toy box but I quickly located it in the kitchen. But, while reaching for the blocks I stumbled, knocking the box over. Next thing I heard a noise in the doorway and I looked up to find Kirsty standing there staring at me. She looked more startled than anything as if she thought cos she knew me that there was a reasonable explanation for me to be in her house, even though it was the middle of the night. Then she spotted the block in my hand and a look of panic crossed her face, as she realised why I was there. She opened her mouth to call out to the other girls but she’d already given me the upper hand by hesitating too long. I already had her on the ground my hand over her mouth. I reached for the pillow... Thought about everything I could lose... my children... my career... my lifestyle... I don’t remember much after that except that when I took the pillow away she wasn’t moving... or breathing...”

 

“I killed my own daughter!” Letting out a sob, she buries her face in her hands. “I see her in my dreams... She tells me it’s okay... that she doesn’t blame me, but I don’t believe it...”

 

* * *

 

“Is my family gullible?” Ellie asks him. They are standing in the hallway outside the interview room, having just watched two officers escort Patricia away. “Me with Joe... and now Lucy with Patricia? Two murderers right under our noses, and we couldn’t even see it?”

 

“You’re a little too trusting maybe, but it bodes well for me that you are otherwise you might not have given a grumpy arsehole like me the time of day.” He regrets the words instantly, realises it’s no time for sarcasm, but quick changes his mind when his comment elicits a tiny smile from Ellie. He clears his throat. “Every family has their share of tragedies. We just have to focus on the good things in our lives. Remind ourselves that our pain is nothing compared to what the Nicholls are going through right now.”

 

Ellie nods, “I know...”

 

“And Patricia’s kids... Their mother’s going to prison for a very long time... she may never be released... and with their father deceased... At least Tom and Fred had you. I know her children are grown up, but they still need a parent.”

 

“There’s no right age to find out someone you love is a murderer,” Ellie says, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s unbearable no matter how old or young you are. How do you think they will cope with the fact that their mother killed their half sister?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“At least they’ll have each other...” She scrunches up her face. “I remember Patricia telling me Jessica is a pastry chef?”

 

Alec gives her a quizzical look. “Why is that relevant?”

 

Ellie shrugs. “It’s not, really. It’s just... remember how Kirsty made us that Spaghetti Bolognese, Paul mentioned the scones, and Tom was constantly going on about how delicious Kirsty’s food was?”

 

He nods, still not sure where she’s going with it.

 

Ellie gives a wistful smile. “It’s sad that’s all. Both Patricia’s daughters shared a love of cooking... as sisters they shared that trait... had that in common, and they’ll never get to meet now...”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s that time again where I say thank you to the dedicated readers who have stuck with this story from start to finish. And of course a special shout-out to those who have left kudos, bookmarked, and posted feedback. :-) Cheers! 
> 
> ~Lisa.

DAISY

 

That night she dreams of Kirsty again. It’s the last dream she ever has about her.

 

They stand at Chloe’s brothers grave.

 

“Why do people have to die so young?” she says.

 

Kirsty’s crouched down at the base of Danny Latimer’s headstone, laying fresh flowers. “It’s God’s plan. Everything happens for a reason.”

 

“Don’t think I believe that.”

 

Standing up, and brushing dirt from her jeans, Kirsty turns to face her. “Don’t you know, this is where you belong?”

 

A shiver races down her spine, “The graveyard,” she whispers hoarsely.

 

Kirsty laughs. “No, silly.” She indicates a hand in the direction of St. Andrews church.

 

“The church? Are you kidding me?”

 

“God will put you in the right place, even if you don’t know it at the time,” her friend says.

 

She shakes her head. “I have no idea what that means?”

 

Reaching over, Kirsty tucks a stray piece of hair behind her Daisy’s ear. “You’ll find out.”

 

Daisy opens her eyes. She’s smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

The day before Kirsty’s funeral she finds herself walking the path to St Andrews Church.

 

Yesterday, Dad and Ellie, along with Mark Latimer and Kirsty’s dad, had gone to the Ackerman house to pack up their belongings. She and Chloe had been asked if they wanted to go along but both had declined. Daisy never wanted to go anywhere near that house again. The Ackerman’s, who were currently staying at the Traders, were seriously considering putting their house on the market. She didn’t blame them. Who would want to live in a house where a girl was murdered, and a woman was raped? Later on Daisy had gone through the toy box, but Dad and Ellie had already taken care of it. The blocks weren’t in there!

 

She’s almost reached the wrought iron gates leading to the churchyard when she hears someone calling her name. Whirling around she’s a little unnerved to see George Nicholls heading in her direction. It’s the first time she’s seen him since Kirsty’s death and she’s a little unsure what to say to him.

 

Approaching, Mr. Nicholls gives her a warm smile. “I’m glad I ran into you, today. I wanted to give you something. I was going to catch up with you at my daughter’s funeral, but I’m not sure how tomorrow’s going to go, to be honest... “

 

She blinks back the tears. “I know what you mean.”

 

Unzipping his coat pocket he slides out a photo envelope, holding out the stack of photos for her to take. “When the police returned Kirsty’s phone to us I went through it and found all these pictures she’d taken while you were house-sitting. There’s some great one’s of the little kids, and Tom Miller, as well as you girls. Thought you and Chloe might like copies of them?”

 

“That’s so thoughtful of you,” Daisy sniffs. “Thank you.”

 

She’s so touched he’s thought of them, given what he’s going through. _Kirsty was lucky to have had such a great father,_ she thinks.

 

“Well, I’d better push on,” Mr. Nicholls says. “I still have a lot to organise for tomorrow, and I don’t like to leave Irene alone too long at the moment.”

 

“Take care. Say hello to Mrs. Nicholls from me. Tell her I’m thinking of her.”

 

“I will.” Giving her a final smile, he takes his leave.

 

For a moment she stares down at the photo sleeve tempted to open it and look at the pictures. Deciding it’s all still too raw she shoves the packet into her handbag and continues on her way.

 

Reverend Paul Coates must have seen her talking to Kirsty’s father because he’s waiting for her by the entrance to the church. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. If it wasn’t for the just visible dog collar she wouldn’t pick him as a Reverend. “Hi, Daisy,” he greets. “How are you?”

 

“All right, I guess.”

 

“How can I help? Do you want to ask me something about tomorrow? Still planning on reading a poem, right? Are the nerves getting the better of you?” he inquires gently.

 

She smiles to herself. _Definitely not nervous about that,_ she thinks. She’s a natural at public speaking. Excelled at it at school. Takes after both her parents in that respect.

 

“Um... no,” she stammers. “I’m fine about the poem. I um... er...” Face flushing she shakes her head in disbelief.

 

 _She may be good at public speaking,_ she thinks. _But apparently she’s shit at one on one conversation. God, the way she’s stammering sounds just like her father._

 

Smiling, Paul Coates waits patiently for her to get her thoughts in order.

 

“I wanted to talk to you about something else.” She’s finally getting the words out. “Chloe said you mentioned grief counselling to her? I think I could use some.”

 

“Of course. I have several options available.” He indicates towards the church. “I was just about to put the kettle on. Would you like to come inside and talk about it?”

 

“Now.” He nods. “Um... Oh, okay. That would be great, thanks.”

 

She follows him inside.

 

* * *

 

 ELLIE

 

“Is that my daughter down there talking to Coates?” Alec frowns at Ellie, looking as if he’s about to slide down the hill and rescue Daisy from the clutches of the evil clergyman. The two of them, as well as Maxine in her buggy, are strolling along the cliff top path near the church. Tom and Fred are at the arcade with Olly.

 

Walking beside him, pushing the buggy, Ellie makes a grab for his arm, while steering with the other. “C’mere, you knob. If talking to Paul is what Daisy needs to make sense of what happened to Kirsty, then leave her be.”

 

Just up ahead there’s a bench, and Ellie drags him towards it. Parking the buggy, she applies the foot brake. Once seated, she gently pulls him down beside her.  Turning to face him she places both her hands in his. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see,” she says, stroking the back of his right hand with her thumb.

 

“Hope you’re right.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Erm... I have something for you so I’m gonna need my right hand back.”

 

With a smile she releases it, but keeps hold of the other one. She watches as he digs in the pocket of his coat. “What is it?”

 

He frowns. “Shit! Maybe nothing cos I can’t find it.” He pats his other pocket and a look of relief crosses his face. “Thank Christ!” He leans close to her, speaking low. “Close your eyes.”

 

She eyes him suspiciously. “Are you serious?”

 

He shoots her a look of exasperation. “Bloody hell. Everything’s an argument with you. Just do it.”

 

Grinning, she complies. “How long do I have to keep them closed for?”

 

“Shoosh.” Breathing deeply she hears a rustling noise. She feels him turn her hands palm up before placing something in them.

 

“Okay you can open them.”

 

Fluttering her eyelids open, momentary disorientated, she glances down. Nestled within her grasp are several pieces of paper. Perplexed she picks them up quickly scanning the pages.

 

With a cry of delight she launches herself at him, her smile wide. “You booked our honeymoon. When did you do this?”

 

“The week you were in London. It’s not until next summer. I thought it would be better cos Max will be over a year by then, but with everything that’s happened since then, we couldn’t have gone at the moment.” 

 

Still smiling, she shakes the papers in the direction of the buggy. “Look Max. Your mummy’s finally getting a honeymoon. Isn’t your daddy clever?”

 

The baby responds by kicking her legs and waving her arms as if in complete agreement.

 

She studies the pages more intently, reading every word, not really caring where they’re going as long as they’re together. But by the time she reaches the end she’s even more impressed with his choice. He’s really outdone himself selecting a remote romantic cottage for two in Scotland’s Western Highlands. “Didn’t you do well, sweetheart?” she says, cupping his cheek with her hand, watching as his eyes close briefly against the gentle caress of her thumb on his face.

 

“You’re not disappointed. Wouldn’t have rather gone somewhere exotic like Spain or Greece?”

 

She wrinkles her nose, “No, too many tourists. Much prefer you and me alone in the middle of nowhere, with no children. I love them, to death, I do. But by summer we’ll definitely deserve a break.”

 

He nods. Then frowns, “What did you just call me?”

 

“Was hoping you didn’t catch that, sweetheart. Don’t you like it?” she asks, giving him a playful swat on the hand. She edges closer to him on the bench. “What if I follow it up with a kiss?”

 

“Erm... I might be on board with it then.”

 

Pressing her lips to his, she takes her time, languorously exploring his mouth with hers, teasing him with her tongue.

 

“Guess it could grow on me,” he says eventually, his voice rippling with that seductive accent of his. “Now about that dress you promised me...”

 

THE END!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has to be mentioned that this story was inspired by my favourite ‘Lewis’ episode (Series 4, Episode 4 – Falling Darkness). Even though I altered the mystery significantly for my purposes, both to accommodate the Broad universe and because I wanted to make the mystery plot for the most part my own, some elements remain the same, or similar anyway. ‘Lewis’ is a great series, and that episode in particular is well worth a view if you get an opportunity to watch it. :-)
> 
> ~Lisa.


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